


Serial Contraption of Dread

by orphan_account



Category: Wooden Overcoats (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Animal Death, Body Horror, Cemetery, Dark Imagery, Electricity, Eye Trauma, Graphic Description, Human Experimentation, I would argue that they are very much harming themselves, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Madness, Other, References to Frankenstein, Resurrection, Science Fiction, Stitches, Those parts aren't graphic, Unethical Experimentation, even if they can't feel it or feel pleasure instead of pain, grave desecration, here it is the Mad Funn AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-21 13:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21075581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Georgie Crusoe has found herself on the island of Piffling on the same day as another new comer, Eric Chapman.Rudyard Funn runs an inventor's emporium in the village of Piffling Vale, it used to be the only one. It isn't anymore. While Georgie remains loyal to Rudyard and his agoraphobic sister Antigone, Eric becomes to most popular inventor on the island. Rudyard becomes more determined to be better. As his experiments and inventions grow more insane, the lines between brilliance and insanity begin to blur.





	1. Chapter 1

Alone in the dark on a small boat, she saw lights sparkling in the distance like stars.  
She rowed faster.  
Georgie Crusoe pushed the oars through the pitch black waters. Reaching the shore, her boat crashed into the beach. Overly excited to have finally reached land, she stumbled out of the boat and fell onto the sand. Grumbling, she got up, dusting off her dark green coat and jeans. With the thick rope tied to the front, she pulled her boat underneath the boardwalk. She settled back into it. Using her backpack as a pillow, she tipped her newsboys cap and drifted off to sleep.  
Tomorrow, she would explore her new home.

She awoke to a sandpaper tongue licking her face. Groaning, she opened her eyes to see a spaniel panting happily. The dog yipping in and out of her boat as she sat up and stretched, the morning sun glaring in her eyes.

“Oi! Stop that.” She commanded.

Immediately the dog obeyed. She told him to sit, and to give him her paw, to which the gleeful spaniel obeyed.

“Smart one, aren’t ya?” She smiled, climbing out of the boat.

She untied the bit of rope and fashioned a leash for him. Her new friend leading her towards the  
cobblestone village.

* * *

Rudyard Funn runs an inventor’s emporium in the village of Piffling Vale. Well, actually, he and his sister do. However, Antigone Funn has not left the dilapidated Funn home in nearly eighteen years; not since their parents passed away. She didn’t go to the funeral, rather opting to watch the hearse pass by from a window. She retreated into her bedroom in the attic, and that is where she stayed. For several months Rudyard attempted to coax her out of her room. He made sure she ate, and whenever he went out he got her books from the library, though he detested the genre she asked for. It didn’t take long for him to give up on getting Antigone out of her room and returned back to his own work.

Eventually, she did venture around her home, but never outside.  
Eventually, Antigone Funn was forgotten by absolutely everyone.  
To the rest of Piffling Vale, it was like Rudyard was an only child, that his sister had never existed at all. Neither of the twins really minded it. When Rudyard had gotten glasses, they ended up having to share them. Arguments would ensue on who needed them more, for what reason and what time. At night, Antigone would steal the pair from her brother’s bedside table and read until the sun came up and Rudyard would stumble up the stairs demanding his glasses. Having inherited the business and therefore the blueprints of incomplete contraptions, they both took up their parents’ previous work. Often the twins spent night and day trying to figure out what on earth their mother and father were doing. Pieces of parchment having been burnt away, indecipherable handwriting, torn and missing pages were all among their problems. Still, they tried their very best. Antigone was very good at putting everything together, rather enjoying tinkering with cogs while her brother guessed about what was missing on their parchments. It was a game of trial and error, where they quarreled often but always made up when they had put the miscellaneous contraptions together. Certain things were simple, normal contraptions - mini carousel automatons and mechanical robot toys. Others were rather odd, like a ring that told you the time via cuckoo clock, parasol spectacles and even an air-conditioned top hat. Rudyard took the credit for it, which his sister didn’t really mind all that much; she had grown quite used to not existing. She knew that without her, Rudyard would be out on the street, and he knew it as well.  
One would think that with their ambition and intelligence, the twins would be successful in their endeavors. They were, at first, until Rudyard grew more selfish. He grew jealous of Antigone’s talent in mechanics and deciphering their parent’s awful handwriting. He didn’t feel that it was enough that he presented them to the village. Hiding himself away in his basement bedroom, taking down with him crates of mechanical miscellany, he attempted to build the contraptions by himself. It was his wild guesses that finished the contraptions in the first place, so why couldn’t he just do it alone?  
Antigone couldn’t convince him to let her help anymore. So she watched incident after injury, as Rudyard became more hated by the town. One bloody incident involving the blades of the air conditioned top hat demonstration on a villager and he was labeled a madman. Never knowing when to give up, he continued to build, set on proving himself sane and successful. His sister moved to her own work, having inherited her mother’s interest in anatomy. The shelves in her bedroom lined with ancient books and dusty jars of wet specimens of a every kind. She picked out a cow’s eyeball from a jar of eyes - some of which she was certain were human - that had once belonged to her mother. This was the third time she would attempt to preserve the tapetum lucidum behind glass. It was a pretty bit of tissue, was all.

Every first Friday of the month, Rudyard attempted to showcase a new invention. Over time, most people simply stopped going, save for the radio broadcaster Jennifer Delacroix, the Local Village Hoodlums who thought his contraptions were abstract pieces of art, and perhaps one or two villagers with tomatoes in hand. It was a gloomy, overcast day and Rudyard was alone at the village square. Frustrated, he bent over and took a wrench to the hunk of gears and wires. It was supposed to be an automated desk with an intricate lamp source. A small shadow overcast him.

“Sir, do you want help?”

Rudyard looked up from the desk to see a freckled young woman with curly copper hair. Her innocent-looking face juxtaposed with the torn jacket she wore. At her feet sat a happily panting spaniel. Exasperated, Rudyard straightened up, and examined the girl again. He mumbled a “no,” and bent back over the machine. A cloud of black smoke burst forward. Rudyard fell backwards on to the cobblestone, coughing. The girl moved around to the inner machinery. She tossed the rope to Rudyard, asking him to hold  
her dog, absently he did. He struggled to see what she was doing, but soon the machine sprang to life, the light mechanism working perfectly as it had been earlier.

“I knew that,” he said, getting up and dusting himself off, “just had to flip a-”

“You had to plug in those three cords and unplug that one.” She interrupted.

Rudyard sighed. He took off his glasses to attempt to clean them on his residue ridden shirt. Georgie gently took the glasses from him and wiped them off on her coat. She handed them back to him.

“Now look here, we haven’t met, have we?” He said, sticking out his grime covered hand.  
She shook her head, lifting a hand in refusal.

“My name’s Georgina...but you can just call me Georgie, Georgie Crusoe.”

Rudyard pulled back his hand.

“I’ve never seen you before,”

“I arrived here last night, my boat’s under the boardwalk...do you run a carpenter’s shop?” She asked, staring at the desk.

“No, my name is Rudyard Funn, and I run an inventor’s emporium.”

“Why would a small island like this need an inventor’s emporium?”

He sighed. He asked her if she knew a reason why anyone needed an inventor’s emporium at all. She didn’t give him an answer. He looked for a moment at this girl, she seemed smart like his sister, and she actually went outside. She might be of good use. She asked Rudyard why he bothered to run the emporium if he thought it wasn’t truly needed and he waved her off with the simple of answer of “It’s the family business.”

“Where do you intend on staying?” He asked.

“I haven’t figured that out yet.” She said.

“Well, I happen to be looking for an assistant and I have an extra room in the back if you’d like.”

She considered this for a moment. The man seemed harmless, if not a bit odd. She agreed. Clouds thundered above them, Georgie suggested he give up for the day. He agreed, it was rather easier to pick up the desk with two people. The spaniel padded next to Georgie’s feet. All the short walk home Rudyard ranted about the town and villagers. The dropped the desk in the foyer, pushing it against a far wall. He off offhandedly remarked he would move it into the back room later.  
Rudyard led Georgie into the kitchen, where Antigone sat fiddling with a fob watch. When she looked up, squinting to see her brother with a girl she had never seen before, she lept up from her chair; ready at any moment to hide away upstairs.

“Don’t you dare run away,” Rudyard warned.

“Who is that?” Antigone demanded, her eyes darting between the two of them.

“Antigone, this is Georgie, she’s our new assistant,” He replied, he handed her the glasses.

“Georgie, this is my sister.”

“Antigone, was it?” Georgie asked, awkwardly waving her hand at her.

“We don’t need an assistant! We’re doing just fine on our own.” She hissed, putting the glasses on her face and taking a good long look at the new girl.

The twins began to argue. The argument sounded so rehearsed, like they had done this a thousand times. She took a closer look at Antigone. Her mess of black curls obscured part of her face, she was very pale. Antigone caught her eye and stopped listening to her brother.

“What are you staring at?” She spat.

Georgie averted her eyes, biting the inside of her cheek. Antigone huffed and shoved past them. She handed Rudyard the glasses back and slammed the door of her attic bedroom once she reached the top of the stairs.

“Don’t worry about her, she’ll warm up to you...hopefully...” Rudyard assured, leading her to the back storage room that would be Georgie’s new quarters.

Little did anyone in the emporium know that right across the square, someone else had just moved into town.  
Now then, where were we?  
Rudyard Funn runs an inventor’s emporium in the village of Piffling Vale, it used to be the only one. It isn’t anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Sunlight streamed into the dark back room of Funn Emporium, hitting Georgie’s eyes. She groaned, turning over. Her dog that Rudyard suggested for whatever reason she name Timmy, was curled up on the end. He stretched his furry legs and began to paw at her feet. Groaning again, she sat up and stretched, and blearily took in the room. She had only an old gray sofa to sleep on, which she didn’t mind. She had slept worse places. As it was the back room of the house after all, there was a door that led directly to the back porch. She had sat there yesterday with Rudyard, talking until the sun set and stars began to show themselves. Timmy running around the tiny grassy area. She tried to ask about his sister, but he told her that it was better to let her be the one to tell her story. Georgie looked up at the stars, and decided that she would like it in Piffling Vale. Her room was cluttered with unfinished hunks of metal and wires poking every which way. On top of the decaying wallpaper were parchment papers of instructions. She rubbed the crust from her eyes and got up, taking a closer look at the blueprints. She couldn’t quite piece together what all these were for. She felt a presence next to her.

“Hullo,”

Georgie cursed, jumping back. She dropped her shoulders in relief once realizing it was only her. Antigone took a step back, curling in on herself. She nervously clawed her own hands.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I just wanted to apologize for yesterday I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine, I get it.” Georgie said, waving her off.

“I don’t see other people often...or ever...”

Georgie looked over at her, Antigone’s eyes darting between her and the threshold. She stammered something under her breath and pointed a shaky finger to Georgie’s shirt. She gave the nervous woman a quizzical look. Antigone groaned, pushing her hair in front of her face as if she could disappear into the thick mass. Georgie tried reaching for her wrists, but she recoiled at the approach.

“Hey. Breathe.” She said.

Antigone took a deep breath, and continued to wring her wrists.

“That film. The one on your shirt. I’ve seen it.” She said.

Georgie looked at her for a moment confused, then remembered she had slept in an oversized shirt with Boris Karloff’s famous creature emblazoned on it. She nodded, remarking that it was one of her favourites. She took a step closer to Antigone, who in turn took a step back.

“I used to go to the cinema a lot when I was younger...” Antigone looked up at her with a look of mild bewilderment, as if she just now realized how much time had passed since then.

“How long has it been?” Georgie asked.

Antigone looked down, not responding. Instead she quietly rambled about how much she missed the cinema. Georgie suggested that she might need some fresh air, and asked if she wanted to sit outside on the back porch. Antigone grew agitated again, shakily telling Georgie that she didn’t go outside. The redhead asked if it was going to upset her if she opened to door. Antigone looked at her confused. It hadn’t ever even occurred to her that she could just open the door but stay inside. She sat on a wooden stool quite a ways away from the door, while Georgie stepped outside. Timmy was already running around, Antigone recoiled with each of his barks. Rudyard soon joined them, greeting a wide good morning. He also decidedly staying inside the house. As the three of them talked, they suddenly heard a crowd cheering from the village square.

“Must be the freakshow...” Rudyard mumbled, he looked to Antigone with an apologetic look in his eyes. It had been years since Rudyard had told Antigone that she could easily she join the freaks, and she never forgave him for that. 

“No one has ever cheered joyfully about that...it’s usually gasps of disgusted awe.” Antigone murmured, looking away from him. 

More shouts of cheer sent Rudyard to quickly stand up and rush to the front of the house to check the window. He was soon joined at the window by the two women, trying to get a good glimpse on what was causing such a ruckus.

“Now look here-” He said to no one in particular as he threw open the front door and marched across the square.

Georgie parted the curtains of one of the tall front windows, Antigone stood beside her just outside of the window frame, asking her to describe what was going on. Across the square, a crowd of practically the whole village was gathered. As Rudyard shoved his way through the crowd, it soon came clear what they were gathered around. Three children sat aboard a small carousel, each atop a brightly coloured unicorn. Besides the contraption stood a tall blond man wearing a pressed white button up shirt and blue slacks. His freshly shined shoes glistened in the sunlight.

“What is going on here?” Rudyard growled.

“Oh, isn’t it wonderful, Mr. Funn? We have an inventor’s emporium! We’re one step closer to being a town.” Mayor Desmond beamed.

“Your worship, I already own an inventor’s emporium.” He said, stretching out his arm towards Funn Emporium.

“Oh, I thought it was a funeral home. It always seemed so...gloomy. Who’s that at the window?” The mayor asked, adjusting his glasses.

The corner of Rudyard’s nose twitched, he looked back at the house, only to see Georgie at the window, waving. He turned to Desmond and told him it was his assistant and that she was new in town as well. Desmond happily suggested the two new arrivals meet. Rudyard turned back to Funn Emporium, bending his fingers in a “come here,” motion. He turned towards the blond man.

“Who the hell are you?”

“Well, hello. I’m Eric, Eric Chapman. I’m new to the place. Just arrived yesterday, actually-”

“Now look here, Chapman. We already have an inventor’s emporium.” Rudyard scowled, pointing back at his home.

Eric glanced over at the dilapidated building, Georgie walked across the square to join them. Antigone quickly shut the curtains. Eric cocked his eyebrow. He turned back to Rudyard to say something, but was distracted by Georgie’s sudden appearance. He faltered for a moment,

“H-hi, I’m Eric Chapman.”

“Georgie Crusoe,” She smirked, sticking out her hand. Eric took it, shaking it for maybe too long as he studied her freckled face.  
Rudyard cleared his throat, pointing again to Funn Emporium. Eric let go of Georgie’s hand.

“I also thought you were a funeral home.”

“The reverend deals with the dead! That clearly says ‘Funn Emporium’ meaning - an inventor’s emporium. We don’t need another one!”

“Well, Rudyard, your contraptions never work...” Mayor Desmond said quietly.

“When they do, they cause a mess!” Lady Vivienne Templar shouted.

“My workload is worse than ever because of you,” Dr. Edgware grumbled.

“You know that you have no talent!” One villager shouted,

“Your work is never as great as your father’s.” Another scolded.

“Do you even try to be a normal person?”

The villagers shouted, voices layered one on top of another. Georgie’s eyes widened. Even Eric was taken aback by the villagers abuse. Covering his ears did nothing, their curses pierced through Rudyard’s skin as he ran back into his home. He rushed into his basement bedroom. Georgie shouted at all of them to shut up which led to more confusion of who _she_ was. She angrily waved them off, marching back to Funn Emporium. Mayor Desmond attempted to stop her, as she needed to come to the village hall for her residency paperwork. She shouted that she would do it later. Looking back at the crowd, she locked eyes with the rather confused Eric. She slammed the door behind her. Eric Chapman blinked absently, unsure about what had just occurred. The Mayor startled him back to reality, leading him to the village hall to fill out his paperwork. The carousel was left in the square, empty but still running.

Georgie knocked on the basement door. Receiving no response. Truthfully, Rudyard wasn’t even down the stairs. He sat at the top of them, ignoring Georgie’s loud knocks. Ignoring Antigone’s quiet calls of his name. Over and over, he tried to buy the villagers’ overpriced “constructive criticism.” Words they spoke so loud and proud went right in his heart and never came out. All the while the villagers will pretend nothing happened. 

“That hasn’t happened in quite a while...” Antigone murmured.

“Are the villagers always that mean?”

Antigone said nothing, she worried it was only a matter of time before Georgie completely realized just how outcasted they were. She wanted for a moment to ask about the newcomer, but instead thought to spend more time with her new assistant and invited her upstairs to show her her own work. Georgie ran her hand across the book spines, stopping at a more recent paperback. Only half listening to Antigone’s rambling, she pulled the book out of the shelf. Antigone stopped midsentence and grabbed the book out of her hands.

“Is that a raunchy book?” Georgie laughed, trying to wrestle the book back.

“No! It’s none of your business what this is-”

Georgie managed to get the book back in her hands, running out of the attic and heading down stairs with Antigone chasing close behind her. She stopped dead at a knock on the door. Georgie looked at the door and back at Antigone. The redhead sat right down on the last step and began reading Antigone’s novel. Hesitating to go where the light hit the stairs, Antigone stayed in the darkness. She was much to embarrassed to be seen by even her brother at that point. Another set of knocks echoed from the door. Rudyard came from downstairs. Still sore from the events from earlier, he wrenched open the door.

“Now look here- oh. It’s you.” Rudyard said disdainfully.

Before him stood Eric Chapman, looking as optimistic. Rudyard could feel his sister’s intent and cold stare from the top of the dark stairs, it compelled him even more to slam the door in Chapman’s face.

“What do you want?” Rudyard sneered.

“Well, I felt the need to come and apologize for this morning. I didn’t know that was going to happen.”

“I’m sure you didn’t.”

“I really didn’t! But since both us are inventors then, I was thinking we could compare notes.”

“Why? So you can steal ou- my ideas?” He scowled.

“No, of course not. I heard what the villagers said, and I’m sure that I could help you and get your inventions back running.”

“I have all the help I need.” He opened the door a bit more to show Georgie on the steps. She greeted Eric rather brightly, which sent Rudyard to snap at her. She stuck her tongue out at him, but somehow convinced Rudyard to allow him in. Eric sat at their kitchen table, he looked around the peculiar home. As Rudyard and Georgie retrieved blueprints from the back room, she tried to explain why she thought Eric could be of help. Rudyard was having none of it. They were doing fine on their own, he insisted. She shook her head. They carried a few of the less ambitious parchments to the kitchen table.

“These blueprints are amazing Rudyard.” Eric said as he pored over them.

“Thank you, I know. Are you done now?” Rudyard asked impatiently, his eyes flickering between Eric and the stairs, his sister hiding in the shadows. You could only see a bit of the kitchen from the stairs, but he knew she was still there. Watching.

“Well, I think we should join forces-”

“Absolutely not, now get out.” Rudyard said, pushing his chair back and standing up.

“But I-”

“Out!” He said, grabbing Eric, pulling him through the foyer and shoving him out the door.

“Well, enjoy yourself!” Eric shouted as Rudyard slammed the door in his face. He hoped he had heard him.

Rudyard sat back down at the wooden table, he buried his face in his arms. He felt Georgie place a hand on his back. She didn’t know the Funns too well as of yet, but she knew Rudyard wasn’t deserving of the treatment he received from the villagers. She wondered about Antigone’s place in the village. Remembering she still had Antigone’s book, she left Rudyard alone. Once reaching where the light crossed into darkness on the steps, she found herself much too close to Antigone. Surprised by her sudden appearance, she stumbled back, almost falling down the stairs. She grabbed the banister.

“You have to stop doing that!”

“Who is that man?”

Georgie stared at her blankly for a second, before she could even register what Antigone asked, she repeated herself.

“That man. That blond man. Who is he?”

Rudyard groaned loudly from the kitchen table. Georgie lightly took Antigone’s wrist and pulled her up the stairs. She shut the door carefully behind her. Antigone stared at her intently.

“His name is Eric Chapman and he just moved across the street...why do you care?”

“We’ve never had new arrivals before. First you and now...him...”

Georgie tilted her head slightly. She remembered Antigone’s book and looked at the cover. The man depicted looked awful familiar, she had to admit.

“What, do you fancy him?” she smirked.

“No! Absolutely not, shut up! He can’t know I exist, no one can know I exist but especially not him.”

Georgie placed a hand on Antigone’s shoulder.

“Sure thing, Antigone.” She said, handing her back her raunchy novel. Antigone’s face grew red and she grimaced. She pushed passed her and continued down to the kitchen. She and Georgie sat at the table, where Rudyard still was. He suddenly sat up, declaring that he wouldn’t rest until he was better than Eric Chapman and disappeared into his bedroom


	3. Chapter 3

With each invention and contraption Eric showed off, Rudyard was quick to fix something similar. Rudyard didn’t want the help of anyone, not Georgie nor his sister. Antigone stayed in her attic bedroom, tinkering with her own machines while Georgie was only ever needed to fetch parchments and equipment. The two spent a lot of time together, often working together to fix old inventions and discuss the merits of strange foreign cinema. One afternoon when Georgie returned from her meeting with the mayor, she handed Antigone a pair of glasses.

“Where did you get these?”

“I might have stolen them from the mayor.”

“You _what?_"

“Listen, I’ll give them back if the prescription isn’t right.”

Antigone snatched the glasses, placing them on her nose.

“It...they’re perfect, Georgie. Thank you.”  
She smiled. She enjoyed spending time with the Funns. She found Antigone to be a wonderful storyteller, and often asked her tell her about her and Rudyard and the village. Suddenly Rudyard shouted for her from downstairs, claiming that Timmy was attacking him. Georgie ran to him, only to find Rudyard sitting on the floor, the spaniel licking his face.

“Georgie! Get him off of me!” He whined.

“He just wants to play with you, sir!” she laughed, getting Timmy off of him. Rudyard groaned, standing up.

“How did he even get down here?”

“You probably left the door open, is all.”

“Well, I can’t have him distracting me from my work, I need to figure out what Chapman is going to do next.”

Georgie rolled her eyes and headed upstairs, Timmy in tow.

Rudyard was going to start a war, one he would rage by himself, with himself. Each and every week, he would stare disdainfully out the window across the square, he hated the cheering crowd of villagers. What he hated the most, was that all of Eric’s inventions had already been built by him and Antigone. The ones that they had built, those worked just fine. Yet, people didn’t like them. He recalled the time Mayor Desmond said a multi-purpose cane that could also be an umbrella and a flute was useless.Yet, there he stood beaming next to Chapman with precisely what Antigone had already built and Rudyard presented a mere few months ago. Oh, and how could one forget the other businesses Eric began to open as well. A bar, a bakery, a bookstore. One by one, Chapman took on the business of Piffling Vale. Though no one seemed to complain. He often stopped by Funn Emporium with food from his restaurant, especially after he caught Georgie directly trying to steal away some food from the kitchens. Rudyard sat alone at his work desk hunched over a notebook, scribbling his own instructions. The villagers curses and shouts echoed in his head as he worked. _“You’ll never be as great as your father,”_ and now he would never be as great as Eric Chapman.  
He would get better, damn it. He would be better than Eric Chapman if it took him the rest of his life. Since Chapman had been presenting things The Funns had already created, it was simple for Rudyard to quickly try to one up him. Just fix it really quick and try to get everyone’s attention. It’s simple. Georgie and Antigone worked to find a pattern in how Eric was going about his business. They tried outlining a timeline to predict what Eric was going to “invent” next, in order to beat him to his presentation. Though they spent night after night sorting through parchments and detailing dates, no pattern came about. There was no reason to this madness.

No one cared about the madman across the square and his plucky young assistant, they were actually very worried about her. The mayor often asked if she wanted to work as his assistant instead, she declined. The reverend repeatedly tried to get her away from Funn Emporium, much to her aggressive responses. Georgie didn’t care about what the villagers thought of her, she was more concerned about the well-being of the Funns. She found herself to be quite attached to them. She saw brilliance in both of them. Couldn’t the villagers see it? Couldn’t they see the light over at the Funn place?  
On one particular afternoon, Georgie was taking bread directly from the ovens of Chapman’s bakery, he caught her. Eric had taken that inopportune moment to ask her out on a date, to which she hesitantly agreed. She went back to Funn Emporium, a basket of bread and cheese in hand; courtesy of Eric, of course. She brought up the date when asked how she convinced Eric to give her free food.

_"what?"_ The twins said in simultaneous astonishment.

Both of them demanded information about Chapman, as much information as she could gather. Georgie tried to calm down the excited Funns, but this was a break through for them, a way for them to finally get ahead of this inventor’s game. Afterwards, Antigone pulled Georgie aside, asking her to tell her what Chapman was like as a person. She assured her she would. The evening rolled around quickly, and Georgie, not really bothering to have changed from her usual outfit, opened the door to Funn Emporium just as Eric was about to knock. He stood there nervously, clutching a bouquet of brightly coloured flowers. He extended his arm, offering them. Georgie laughed slightly, thanking him for the flowers.  
The two of them made their way back across to one of Chapman’s restaurants. Through the evening, Georgie kept herself aloof, while Eric was trying his best to impress her. Several villagers continued to interrupt their conversation to inquire about his next invention. He mostly waved them off, telling them it was a surprise.

“So, what is your next invention, Eric?” Georgie asked, leaning onto the table. She placed her hand dangerously close to his. A blush crept to his cheeks.

“Oh, now if I can’t tell anyone else, then I can’t tell you either.”

Georgie moved her hand a bit closer.

“Come on, you can tell me.”

Eric moved his hand away for a moment and changed the subject. He looked at her sincerely.

“Why do you work with Rudyard Funn? I can tell you’re an intelligent young woman and he’s...very callous, don’t you think?”

Georgie straightened herself up. She looked at him with disdain.

“You don’t know him at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t because he refuses to accept any help from me! I can help him and you if you two would just let me help.”

“Why did you come here in the first place, Eric?”

“I just wanted to brighten people’s lives and make people happy with these inventions. You know, I once won Mr. Sunshine Man when I was in Denma-”

“There was already an inventor’s emporium here, you’ve opened so many different businesses here that already exist.”

“I’ve improved everyone’s lives here!”

“Everyone? Are you sure?” Georgie sneered. She pushed herself up from the table, once she reached the door, she heard Eric shout at her.

“A flying machine!” He shouted, “It’s a flying machine! Try to top that!”

Georgie smirked in triumph and made her way back to Funn Emporium. He ran after her as she left, and told her one more thing. “You’re wasting your potential.” Georgie almost slapped him square across the face, but instead marched to Funn Emporium, a rage boiling side of her. She grew a bit calmer once she saw Rudyard and Antigone, who had been waiting impatiently for her. Once hearing the idea, they worked until the sun came up. Antigone and Rudyard were to quick to draw and write the blue prints for the wings. Taking inspiration from the bats in the attic, the wings would be able to support an average man’s weight, the stretched out wingspan reaching up to 16 feet.  
As Georgie sorted through mismatched planks of wood and sawed them into thinner pieces to build the frame, The twins sacrificed bed sheets and shirts. Antigone cut and sewed the fabric together and stretched it over the clawed frame. Using miscellaneous gears, Rudyard tinkered with a what used to be a toaster. He placed the moving parts into a leather knapsack and slashed holes into the sides to attach the wings. In the backyard, Rudyard placed the backpack onto his shoulders, his arms moving along the frame, curling around the bars Georgie placed there for him to hold on to. The sun peaked it’s head over the horizon as they stood in their small back yard. Antigone stood at the open back door, but remained inside the house. Timmy sat attentively at her feet.  
Rudyard moved his arms forward, the wooden frame creaked as he moved, but soon he jumped and caught air. He hovered there for a moment, absolutely ecstatic. Georgie shouted in awe, and Antigone clasped her hands together in amazement. Caught up in his excitement, he had stopped moving his arms and fell back onto the ground. He landed squarely on his back, the wings tearing. Timmy ran to him and started nipping at her trousers. Rudyard began whining again.

“We can fix that!” Georgie exclaimed as she helped Rudyard out of the straps and pulled him up.

“If we can make it perfect by Friday, we’ll be golden.” Rudyard said, dusting himself off.

Antigone bit her nails, saying nothing. A smile wavered on her face. She didn’t want to doubt her brother, but with what she had observed from the window it seemed Chapman would be impossible to beat. Everyone adored him. As the sun rose higher in the early morning, the Funns and Georgie decided it was best to deal with the flying machine later. Georgie folded the wings and stored them in the corner of her room. Antigone stayed in the back room with her, nervously clawing her dress.

“So...” She began.

“So...?”

“How is...Chapman...”

Georgie sighed in disgust. She sat on her ancient red sofa, motioning for Antigone to sit next to her. She sat down, tucking herself close to the other end as not to be too close.

“He’s so...smug. He was always bragging about the good things he did where he used to live. It was insufferable.” Georgie recounted everything Eric had told her, “I kept askin’ him, ‘oh, when did you do that?’ and he was always so vague, he would say ‘a long time ago...’ and then stare wistfully off to the side like he was in a film.”

Antigone stifled a small laugh. Georgie smiled, happy to see Antigone crack a tiny smile. She continued her rant on Chapman.

“He said I was wastin’ my potential by being here, can you believe that?”

“You are.”

“What?”

“Georgie...we’re not good enough. We were never good enough even before Chapman came here.”

“Hey, no. You’ve got potential too. You both do! We got Rudyard to fly! We just need to fix everything is all...” She trailed off. She stared ahead of her. Eventually she broke the silence.

“Antigone, why don’t you go outside?” She asked.

Antigone curled in on herself. She answered quietly, saying that she simply had no reason to. She was safer inside, didn't have to explain how she was still existing to the villagers who had forgotten her. It was her fate to live in the shadows, only that and nothing more. She didn't tell her how dearly she wanted to be known, to run out and tell every soul in town that she existed, painfully, she existed. Right then, she wanted to go back upstairs, and hide away even more. Georgie let her. 

As she was now left alone with Timmy, who was curled up under Rudyard’s automated desk contraption, she sighed.  
_Why couldn’t they even see their own light?_

While the town gathered around outside Chapman’s excitedly, the Funn home was electrified with their own excitement. Gathered in Antigone’s attic bedroom, Georgie threw open the window. Rudyard climbing out carefully, he sat on the landing under the window, slowly standing up. Antigone and Georgie carefully moved the wings through the window, and Rudyard pulled on the knapsack. Georgie ran downstairs and out the door, calling to get everyone’s attention. The villagers turned to see Piffling’s madman with great mighty wings on his back. They laughed him off, and turned back towards Eric, who was using a inflation machine on a large balloon. Eric stopped cranking the machine and locked eyes on Rudyard, ignoring the calls of the villagers to just ignore him. No one paid any mind to Rudyard Funn. Until, for a moment, something quite remarkable happened.  
Rudyard took a deep breath. He began to move his arms, the creaking wings moving with him. He stepped off the roof. Soaring above the villagers, he laughed. They turned away from Eric’s hot air balloon, gasping in awe and wonder.  
For a moment they called him Icarus.  
He was much too caught up in his pride as he flew higher and further away. He flew above the ocean, growing too close to the shining sun. He felt the light against his face, as it burned away at his wings.  
He looked up at the sun as he fell, knowing he could never reach it, never be its equal or above it. The ocean wrapped him in a cold embrace. The dark water swayed in her velvet dress, pulling him closer in the dark. A fire raged right above him, and pulled him out of the sea’s embrace. Rudyard found himself in Georgie’s small wooden boat. Silently, she rowed the two of them back to shore. She helped Rudyard remove the broken frames and wings torn to shreds. They left it on the beach, uncaring about what would happen to the remains. The villagers had already turned back to the hot air balloon. Chapman tried to make sure they were alright but the two of them vilified him, there was no need for Apollo to claim his concern. They returned home, Rudyard limped down to his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. The salty musk of the sea water lingered in the house.

“Never regret your fall, Rudyard. The greatest tragedy of them all is to never feel the burning light.” Antigone softly said, and disappeared upstairs like she was never there at all.


	4. Chapter 4

He was afraid of the limp that inherited his leg.  
Antigone would try to get him out of bed, but he waved her off. Georgie brought him food. She didn’t tell him the food was from Eric, or that he had sent a card as well. Antigone had taken the card, reading it over and over again, admiring Chapman’s handwriting. She left the card on her dusty wooden bookshelf, tucked hidden between fogged jars. Rudyard stayed in his bedroom, under the surface where he belonged. The clocked ticked away while he spent the passing hours in his own reverie. He wondered what the villagers were thinking. The cold had already inherited his blood, his heart was beginning to rot. The island would celebrate if he was gone at last. They would strike up the band, strike up the matches. Pour kerosene all over his coffin. The island was better now here in his absence, a cancer removed into the tomb he stayed. He let his arm hang from the edge of his bed, his knuckle brushing the floor. He heard a quiet scurrying noise and felt something furry brush against his hand. Lifting himself up, he looked to the floor he found a little mouse. He carefully picked it up.

“Well, hello there...” He said gently, using his index finger to pet the little creature, who squeaked back a greeting.  
He raised himself from his bed, gently placing the mouse in his shirt pocket. He figured that if he kept walking and using his leg he would grow used to it. The pain was not as bad as it had been. Though his loud and exaggerated groaning as he tried to climb the stairs was bothering Georgie and Antigone. Georgie stepped out of the house to pick up some books from the library. On her way she came across many of the villagers. Lady Templar fluffed her fur coat as she passed. Others greeted her warmly, and every collar was creased. The Piffling Library stacks were as ancient as the island itself. Georgie ran her finger on the dust collected shelf, grimacing. In a darker corner she found the anatomy books, picking up compilations of medical journals, anything she could find that focused on muscles. As she checked out the books and left the library, Mayor Desmond stopped her. He inquired about Rudyard’s whereabouts.

“No one has seen head or tail of him in days, I’m actually quite worried, after his fall and all.”

Georgie told him that Rudyard was fine, that he was getting better. Desmond asked her to tell him to stop by the village hall sometime, and maybe they could have tea. She smiled, promising to tell him. There was a lighter spring in her step as she returned to Funn Emporium. Antigone immediately took to studying the books. She and Georgie worked together to draft sketches and fashioned Rudyard a machine to help with this physical therapy endeavor. It was medium sized wooden box of interconnecting cogs. Two bicycle pedals jutted out the side of it. Georgie forewarned him that the cogs got stuck sometimes. Rudyard asked her if she had tried to present that to the villagers, but the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. Instead of scolding her for a lost opportunity, he thanked her for the machine. He stayed at his desk, cycling both his legs and the cogs of his brain, scanning the old parchments of his parents’ blueprints for some spark.  
Georgie quietly watched him from the top of the stairs. She wondered, how could it be, her friend was the madman the village had come to see? She quietly floated up the stairs, checking on Antigone. She was much to focused on her work to notice Georgie standing at the threshold. Talent, saw it glimmer - and her brother must have known it for years, it shines from within them through the failures and the tears. It was a crime to village for even a while to hide for a moment their beautiful minds.

That evening Eric showed up at the door. Georgie did not want to even look at him let alone speak to him, but the sincerity in his apologetic eyes compelled her to let him in. They sat at the kitchen table. Since Rudyard was downstairs with an aching leg and Antigone hid upstairs, she figured neither would mind if Chapman was in the house as long as neither knew. Both of them knew very well Eric Chapman was in their house. Rudyard, having had the courage to climb the stairs without groaning, stopped once he heard Chapman’s voice. He fought his instinct to run him out of the house and sat at the top of the basement stairs, his ear pressed against the crack of the door. His new little mouse friend poised next to him. Antigone was interrupted on her descent from the attic. She sat in the darkness of the staircase, her hands wrapped around the banister. They listened closely.

“Listen, I’m sorry about what I said on our date.”

“Which part? The part where you have the audacity to question why I’m working here or the part where you said I was wasting my potential?”

“Alright, maybe the way I didn’t phrase it well, but both you and Rudyard have ambition and...” He suddenly changed the subject. “Why did you go on a date with me?”

Georgie shrugged, “Guess I thought I fancied you.”

“Was that really it or was it because you wanted was to know what the new contraption was so you could report it back to Rudyard? Do you think I’m an idiot, Georgie?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

Eric dropped his hands on the table, and let out an annoyed sigh. Antigone had her hand clamped over her mouth, she wanted so dearly to make herself be known. She wanted to claim some credit for Rudyard’s work, as it was really hers, but she stayed in the darkness. Rudyard had had enough of Chapman. He lifted himself from the stairs and swung open the door.

“Now look here, Chapman- ugh-” He groaned, grabbing his leg. Georgie quickly got up from the table, forcing Rudyard to sit down and face him. Eric continued.

“I knew it, of course I knew it. I told you what it was because I wanted you to do something about it! Christ, I didn’t know you were going to do that!”

“What of it, Chapman? Was it better than your stupid air balloon?”

“Quite frankly, yes.”

A silence fell on the house. Antigone couldn’t stand to sit there anymore, she wanted him to know. She pressed her head against the banister, fighting tears of frustration.

“Why don’t we join forces, Rudyard? You, me, and Georgie - a trio of inventors. I’ll even change the name of my emporium. It would be brilliant.”

Rudyard stared at him disdainfully. He could feel his sister’s presence in the shadows.

“This is a family business, Chapman.”

“Your legacy is not up to your genetics.”

Georgie quietly placed her hand on Rudyard’s shoulder. He let out a sigh and quietly told Eric to get out of his house. Without a fight, he did, but not before saying one last thing before he left.

“You should have waited for nightfall, Rudyard. The moon wouldn’t have let you go.”

Antigone quietly descended the stairs, and took Chapman’s place in the chair facing Rudyard. Georgie pulled up another chair and sat with them.

“I will never join Eric Chapman, not ever.” He uttered his words it like a promise.

“He’s right. You’d be better if you worked together...” Antigone said quietly, her voice cracking.

His sister looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes. He repeated his promise, looking passed her towards the front door. Georgie said nothing, as there was nothing to be said. Rudyard repeated his promise until it became an absent chant. He would never join Eric Chapman, not ever. Antigone slammed her fists on the table, tears falling down her face.

“Rudyard, just go. You have to make your life one that’s worthy of remembering.”

The corner of his nose twitched. He couldn’t find the right words. His thoughts raced. What of her? What was Antigone going to do alone? He looked into his sister’s eyes, brimming with despair. He couldn’t fathom the day that his sister would truly stop existing, as the world would have ended right then and there. Angrily, he got up from the table and slammed the door of his room as he descended. He collapsed onto his bed, and let out a sob of his own. The little mouse pawed her way to Rudyard’s pillow, and nestled herself near him. He gently placed his hand over her.  
Georgie was left alone in the kitchen she fell asleep there. Antigone vanished upstairs, she plucked the card Chapman had sent Rudyard from between the two jars on her shelf and tore it to shreds. Climbing onto her bed, she closed her eyes, clutching her pillow close to her. 


	5. Chapter 5

There were days where Antigone would lament about not leaving the house, but she just could not bring herself to leave the door. Even in the backyard at night, where no one would ever see her. While off on her own project, Georgie was caught by cinema owner Herbert Cough as she searched around the back of the building for a broken projector. Herbert ended up being more than willing to give her an old projector and some film canisters.

“You know, a young woman about your age, maybe younger, used to come here quite often.” He said.

Unsure of how to respond, she thanked him for the help and walked back to Funn Emporium. She began to dismantle the projector in her attempt to fix it. The gears within were jammed, the removal impossible without breaking them. She pulled out a box of cogs and got to work.   
His recent excursion to the library to get books for Antigone led Rudyard around the library. He picked up several books about understanding agoraphobia, trying to piece together how he could help her. Over the course of a week, Rudyard worked tirelessly, sewing fabric and attaching hoses around the suit. As he drilled the final screw into the helmet visor, he took a step back at his creation. As for the design, he had taken a chapter from a history of space suits. It was nothing but a placebo to help his sister step outside, but if it helped her then so be it.  
Antigone Funn might have been forgotten by absolutely everyone, but even Rudyard wouldn’t forget their shared birthday. Alongside Georgie, he climbed up the stairs. he carried the suit while she carried a cake. One that she of course had tried stealing from Chapman’s, to which Eric gave it to her for free anyhow once he coaxed out of her that it was Rudyard’s birthday. He had also sent her off with a card that quickly found itself in the trash. Rudyard kicked the door several times before Antigone finally opened it. She stared at the space helmet.

“Happy birthday,”

Antigone echoed him, and moved away from the door to let them in. As they all sat together in her room eating cake.

“How old are you guys, now?”

“We’re thirty-six.” Rudyard said, mouth stuffed with cake.

Antigone stared at her cake, poking it with her fork. 18 years. Rudyard watched his sister absently stab her cake and took the opportunity to explain the outdoor survival suit. She smiled, her attempt to give her brother a hug was met with great protest and disgust. She hugged Georgie instead. They waited until sundown to go downstairs and try it out. Georgie and Rudyard stood outside. Antigone stood inside, the only thing separating them was the door frame. She couldn’t move, her heart beat rapidly as she stared at her brother and assistant through the tinted visor. She hyperventilated, eventually throwing off the helmet. She discarded the space suit on the stairs as she vanished into her room.

They would try again tomorrow.  
And tomorrow.  
And tomorrow.

Until eventually one evening, while Georgie was waiting for Antigone to pull on the survival suit and try again, she picked up one her books. She teased her about it, reading excerpts of the raunchy novel. Antigone twisted on the helmet, and tried to grab the book from the redhead’s hands. Georgie ran downstairs, with the astronaut close behind her. She ran out the backdoor and stopped on the back porch steps. Antigone tore the book from her hands, huffing. She didn’t realize she was outside until she heard Rudyard congratulating her. Her joints locked up. She was outside, but nothing bad was happening to her. Nothing was going wrong. Everything was fine. Nerves got to her again. Antigone wanted to go back inside, and no one stopped her. Before she could reach the stairs, Georgie called behind her.

“Do you want to watch a film?”

Antigone looked at her curiously. Georgie held up film canisters while Rudyard picked up the projector. She moved to them, thankful that her helmet would hide her tears and her wavering smile. She nodded. Georgie put down the film for a second to remove Antigone’s helmet. She looked down, allowing her curls to hide her tear streaked face. She felt arms wrap around her. Once Georgie let go of her, they all headed upstairs.

“I’m really proud of you,” Rudyard said as they reached her bedroom.

Antigone sat on her bed still wearing her outdoor survival suit, the helmet in her lap. Rudyard stretched the discarded fabric from his old wings over the far triangular wall of the attic. Georgie sat on the floor, mindlessly feeding film into the projector. She checked the label on the canister, it only read “Galvani,” she shrugged it off as some Italian film and flicked the projector to life. It was not, in fact, an Italian film, but rather the type of old instructional videos that would be shown in biology classes. The three of them watched curiously as a man in a lab coat sent electrical bolts into the body of frog splayed on a metal dish. The frog’s legs twitched as the muscles responded to the electricity. Before the man could explain any further, the film stretched and burned away. Georgie jumped to turn the projector off and apologized for it jamming. The Funns reassured her that it was alright, much more pressing matters were on their minds. Antigone eyed the books she had gotten from the library that were yet to be returned. She grew bolder, over time. One foot outside until she took another one. Rudyard and Georgie encouraging her until she was fully outside. She stayed in the yard but she went out earlier and earlier. Until, well, one morning;

“Can you get me books from the library?” Antigone asked, suddenly appearing behind Rudyard.

Rudyard groaned, “No,”

“You used to!”

“Well, I have more important things to do than get you disgusting books.”

“They are not disgusting.” She hissed.

“They’re raunchy, and that makes them disgusting.” Rudyard said, pulling on his coat.

Antigone huffed, running upstairs to pull on her survival suit. She ran back down the stairs, catching Rudyard right as he walked out the door. Before he could object, Piffling florist Petunia Bloom approached, and stared at the astronaut suit in wonder.

“Mr. Funn, what on earth is this creation?”

“Oh, uhm, it’s an...automaton...” He said slowly.

Antigone silently lifted her arm and waved. Through her dark visor, she remembered Petunia Bloom from when she was much younger. She used to love Petunia’s flower arrangements, the swirl of colors and smells rushed back from her memories. Before long, a crowd had gathered around Antigone, all under the belief that she was an automaton. Antigone shook hands, and gave children high-fives. She waved, she bowed, she curtsied. She marched forwards, walking around the crowd and back. She prayed that no one could see her under the visor. It was becoming too much for her, all the worse when Eric Chapman approached from across the square.

“What’s going on here?” He inquired.

“I’ve created an automaton, Chapman.”

Chapman stared at the astronaut.

“Rudyard, an automaton is very limited in it’s actions. There’s no way in this world you could create such a cog system for that astronaut to move so intricately with that many actions! This astronaut is impossible! Who’s under there?” He accused, reaching for the visor. “Too tall to be Georgie...”

Rudyard grabbed his arm, roughly turning him away from the astronaut. Taking her opportunity, Antigone ran back into Funn Emporium. Rudyard argued with Chapman, who shouted at him to enjoy himself as he marched back across the square and revealed his own new invention. A mechanical horse that could trot, gallop, and even neigh. The crowd of villagers immediately turned to Chapman’s. So easily they were deterred from Funn Emporium. As Eric happily showed the crowd the cogs and mechanisms of the horse to prove his to be true, Rudyard huffed away and headed towards the Piffling Library.

“You’ll see, you’ll all see.” He mumbled to no one in particular.

His fingers grazed the spines of the decaying novels lining the wooden shelves. He picked up several texts about bioelectricity, picking up a random romance novel for his sister. He didn’t look the librarian in the eye as the woman checked his books out. Trudging back home, he tossed the book to his sister and shut himself away in his room. Halfway through his sketching he realized he would need lightning for this project, and his basement bedroom wouldn’t do. He looked upwards, and decided it was better if he didn’t ask for Antigone’s help. Not just yet, not until he had it just perfect. Rudyard set out on his endeavors while storm clouds settled over the island. He stood outside, a small dead bird Timmy had torn from the trees for him laid in metal cake pan. The machine was small, but it would do. The reworked radio antenna stretched high in the sky. Rudyard carefully tied the wire around the birds wings and waited. A ragged bolt of lightning burst from the sky and crawled down to the antenna and slammed right into the heart of the bird. The smell of burning flesh revolted Rudyard as he peered over to the cake pan. A fine layer of black grime covered the bird. He waited and yet no movement came. Angrily, he kicked the pan over, and the bird suddenly began to frantically flap it’s wings. It hopped around in its confusion and fell to the ground once again dead.  
All the while, from the darkness of their home Antigone watched. She tried to involve Georgie, but she was much too tired to stay awake. She didn’t care if Antigone stayed in her room or not, often snoring to indicate her deep sleep. Taking note of what her brother did every stormy night, she began her own contraption. Something bigger, more complex. Her brother’s machines only held onto life for a brief moment, but with her help they could resurrect the respect the Funn name had around Piffling Vale. While Rudyard celebrated his beginnings, Timmy trotted up to him with a small furry carcass. He was horrified to realize that it was his little mouse friend that he hadn’t even  
properly named yet. He stared at Timmy, who was just happy to be helping. He sighed, at least he now had more of a motivation to succeed. 

Closing the cover of her muscle anatomy books, Antigone looked to her incomplete machine. She let out a breath, and pulled on her survival suit. The Impossible Astronaut went downstairs and woke up a very grumpy Georgie, heading outside to confront her brother.


	6. Chapter 6

The sky turned black as thunder sounded over the island of Piffling. Georgie trudged up the stairs with a yellow bicycle she stole right off of Chapman’s property. Her backpack was filled to the brim with various objects she stole from the villagers trash and thought it might be helpful in this project. She found the twins sitting on the floor, poring over blueprints. An ironing board laid across from them. Scattered near the attic window was a pile of their old inventions, partially dismantled.

“Isn’t that Chapman’s bike?” Rudyard asked as he got up from the floor.

“Yep,”

“Excellent, Georgie. Thank you.” He grinned.

Georgie dumped the contents of her bag on the floor. An old record player, large spring cables, and a small bird cage were among her finds. Antigone immediately took to dismantling the record player, carefully removing its wires and connecting them to another unsuccessful Funn gadget. Georgie took the spring cables and took them to where Rudyard stood by the attic window. He had flipped over the bicycle and was tinkering with it’s gears and chain. He took the large alligator clips of the cables and hooked them to the bicycle. Antigone took the tiny screws from the record player and attached them to the neck of the little mouse. Earlier Rudyard had carefully sewn the poor thing’s head back on. It took a lot of convincing for Georgie to get him to forgive Timmy. Eventually he did. Antigone gently placed the mouse on the ironing board. Rudyard attached the final smaller alligator clips to the screws while Georgie fed a kite with an extension cord as a string out the window. Almost immediately the kite was swallowed by the dark clouds. Antigone began to move the pedals of the bicycle and the electrical Rube Goldburg machine whirred to life. Antigone was much too caught up in the excitement of the endeavor to realize that she was still touching the bicycle as a bolt of lightning surged down from the sky. Electrical currents flowed their way throughout the contraption, Rudyard moved to get Antigone’s hand off the bicycle and at that moment the electrical currents hit the both of them. A blinding white light burst through the attic.  
The twins cried out in pain and a cloud of smoke cleared from the room.  
Georgie ran to the twins, who were now laying on the floor.  
They sat up, staring at each other in confusion.

“Antigone... you- your hair!”

“What? What’s wrong with my hair?” She asked, pulling a chunk in front of her eyes. It was stark white. She panicked, bringing all of her hair to the front of her face.

Georgie helped Antigone up, she scrambled to a broken piece of mirror glass on one of the basement shelves. Her hair, for the most part was it’s normal black, but a chunk of it had turned a snow white. She turned to Georgie and Rudyard.

“I think it actually looks good...” Georgie said, rubbing the back of her neck.

Rudyard nodded absently. He got up, remembering the point of their experiment.  
Had it worked? They slowly got up, slowly approaching the metal table. The three of them loomed over the sheet, hoping that the small lump underneath would begin to move. The long tail poking out of the white sheet twitched. Georgie pulled off the sheet, the three of them were greeted with a little frankenmouse.  
Rudyard shouted in joy, accidentally punching the bulb swinging above them. the glass shattered. Antigone reached over to catch the falling glass as Rudyard retracted his now bleeding hand.  
Georgie took the little mouse into her hands, looking back at the twins.  
Antigone whimpered as blood seeped between her fingers as she had absently clutched the shattered  
bulb. Rudyard stared at his hand, small pieces of broken glass poked out of his skin.

“Does that not hurt?” Georgie asked, worried.

“No,” the twins said simultaneously.

Georgie gently put the mouse in her coat pocket. She carefully took the wrists of the twins and led them downstairs. The three of them moved to the kitchen table. Antigone threw away the glass she was clutching, suppressing small moans while Georgie picked the glass out of Rudyard’s hand and bandaged their hands.

“I can’t believe we did it...we actually did it...” Georgie held the mouse close to her chest, it chewed at her coat.

She set the mouse on the table and pulled a stale madeleine cake out of her other pocket. The mouse nibbled at it.

“We have to keep this a secret.” Antigone murmured.

“Absolutely not! This little creature...oh! Madeleine! That’s her name,” He said gleefully pointing at the small shell shaped cake, “is our ticket to drive Chapman out of here. Can he resurrect the dead? I think not.”

“Sir, did that thing fry your brain? We can’t just go parade around an undead mouse around town! it’s... it’s not normal.” Georgie said.

“We’re not exactly normal..” Antigone said quietly, “Though, there is a place that might take us up.”

Rudyard and Georgie leaned in, and listened intently. Even the little mouse perked her ears up, as Antigone told them about the Piffling Traveling Freakshow.  
The show came without a sound. No fliers, no word of mouth. It was simply there, when yesterday it was not. Each of the black and white striped circus tents housed a collection of human oddities from mermaids to wolfboys. From an alligator strongman who greeted the guests as they arrived, to the lobster clawed boys and three-legged young women who made Lady Templar nearly faint.  
Yes, the Piffling Traveling Freakshow housed the finest collection of abhorrent nature ever placed before the public eye. No mountebank’s masquerade or scoundrel’s simulacrum.  
Rudyard Funn wondered through the maze of tents, he peaked at each pickled punk, searching for the ringleader of this affair. He came across the tent of the geek, Rudyard studied the rail thin man as he bit the heads of chickens and rats, sputtering and growling as he rubbed the blood on his face. Rudyard gently placed his finger in front of Madeleine’s snout, shielding her curious gaze away from him. He grimaced, turning away and continuing down the footpath. In the center of the grounds, he found her. A tall blonde woman stood on a platform, wearing a black and white striped tailcoat, the red of the ribbon on her black top hat and red bowtie drew attention from the otherwise monochrome carnival. He approached the crowd gathered around her, and listened to her campaign of shock and awe.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls...” She began, an eastern European accent that only someone keen on such things would pin as Slovakian drew the crowd in, “It’s been quite some time since we’ve come to town.”  
The ringmistress gestured what seemed to be a cage draped in a thick black velvet cloth. She continued.  
“You won’t believe your eyes beyond this cover, we’ve got something that was only a ghastly legend, one of horror and fantasy! One that they say... is an omen of death-” and with that, she tore off the velvet to reveal a large ferocious black dog.  
The crowd gasped, children clutched their mothers. Many of them quickly left the grounds, crossing themselves as they went. Rudyard took a closer look at the cage, he noticed that the bars looked rather thin. That dog could easily snap them in half. Soon found himself alone in the middle of the circus grounds with the ringmistress, the caged dog growling. The ringmistress’s smile faded for a moment, she caught Rudyard’s eye. Fear finally found it’s way to Rudyard’s eyes as the ringmistress approached him.

“Who are you?” She drawled.

“My name is Rudyard Funn, and I run an inventor’s emporium. Well, one of them. Well, I mean I run the original one-”

“This small talk is not necessary. People here talk too much about too little. Sometimes it is just better to close the mouth.”

“I’m sorry, I have something that I’m sure no one else has and I promise you this should be of interest to you.”

Right on cue, Madeleine poked her head out of Rudyard’s shirt pocket. He took her out of his pocket, and presented her to the ringmistress. He stuttered through an explanation of how Madeleine came to be, the ringmistress was intrigued. She softly pet Madeleine’s head, and asked for Rudyard’s price.

“No, actually. I came here for help with an experiment. I resurrected a mouse, fine. Though, what if I went bigger?”

“What does this have to do with my freak show?”

“You have one of a kind human oddities, you can’t get them back if they die...I’m sure you’re attached to to your oddities... What if I was able to bring them back?”

The ringmistress looked around her, making sure no one saw them. She pulled him into a small empty tent. They made their plans, Rudyard wrote down his address and gave it to the foreign woman. The following night, the ringmistress would meet Rudyard and talk through negotiations. He took a longer look at her, taking note of the scar that crossed her eye. Before they parted ways, Rudyard realized she had never given him her name.

“Marlene Magdalena,” She said, waving him off.

The days passed by as quickly and quietly as the circus had arrived. Antigone was about to head downstairs, though she stopped immediately once she saw a woman she had never seen before walk into her home. She hid in the shadows near the top of the stairs, watching her. The woman was tall, perhaps too tall. The silver epaulets on her jacket gleamed under the dull light. She immediately realized this was the ringmistress Rudyard had been going on about all day. She listened intently.

“Ah! Miss Magdalena! Thank you so much for coming!”

“Please. Marlene.”

Rudyard stuck out his hand, which she ignored and moved passed him, taking in the old home. Still cloaked in shadows, Antigone moved down the stairs a bit to catch a better sight of the two. She had the perfect sight of the ringmistress. She continued to eavesdrop.

“Let’s just get to the business.” The ringmistress said.

“Right! of course. Well, you see I’ve been experimenting on animals that my assistant’s dog had captured...”

Antigone had to stifle a scoff. She had been the one who built that damnable contraption. She was the one who had electricity running through her veins. At that, her shoulder twitched up. Realizing she had missed a bit of their conversation, she refocused her attention.

“Hm. Well, Mr. Funn, I must tell you that I care deeply about my companions.”

“Yes, of course, I’m sure you’ve grown rather attached to them.”

“Yes, well, one of mine has fallen sick. There is no way he’ll be able to survive.”

Rudyard’s nervous demeanor fled the moment he heard.

“Oh, who?” He asked eagerly.

“Patrick, the Alligator Man,”

Rudyard’s jaw dropped slightly. He thought back to the creature of a man who greeted him as he entered the circus, he commented to the ringmistress that he seemed fine.

“He is usually a strong performer,” Her eyes narrowed, she tried finding more to say. “But his illness, I’ve asked him to simply greet people...usually he has his own tent and show.”

Rudyard wanted more details. How sick was he? What would he have to do to get Marlene to well...speed up the process? Before he could ask anything, Antigone moved further down the stairs, escaping the safety of the shadows. Rudyard caught her out of the corner of his eyes, and he didn’t catch himself whipping his head towards her. The ringmistress noticed his reaction and turned around to the staircase. Fearing her cover had been blown, Antigone scrambled back up the stairs and slammed the attic door.

“What was that?”

“Uh...That was my assistant! Georgie!”

“So, in that case, what is upstairs?”

“Equipment! Oh, you know, old inventions and extra pieces and whatnot.” Rudyard said, attempting to usher the woman out. Her eyes lingered up stairs and she turned to him.

“We will discuss this further Sunday once the sun goes down. Only then you... can figure out your plan and prove to me that you’re not an incompetent buffoon.”

The corner of Rudyard’s eye twitched, and he forced a smile.

“Right. Of course. Good bye now.” He said, slamming the door in her face.

Rudyard pressed himself against the door and sighed, he glanced up at the dark attic stairs, shaking his head. Madeleine poked her head from Rudyard’s pocket, squeaking encouragingly. Georgie emerged from the kitchen, covered in soot.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

“I think I have a chance, I just need to gain her trust.”

“That’s great, sir.”

Georgie wiped her hands on her jeans, a look of slight despair in her eyes.

“Are you alright?” Rudyard asked.

“I haven’t seen Timmy since yesterday morning...” She said quietly. She switched on the old radio on the bookshelf, it crackled to life.

“...LaCroix, Piffling FM,” The radio crackled. “A...oh my god...a dismembered canine corpse has been found behind the Piffling Public Library. Village constable Agatha Doyle is investigating the matter...Oh, uh listeners, she’s seems to be at the doorway of my bedro- I mean the station. Hold on...”

Georgie looked at Rudyard in horror, who looked back at her worried. They turned the knob louder and listened intently. What they didn’t know was that Antigone had returned to the stairs and was listening as well. Jennifer’s voice returned.

“Alright listeners...We have Agatha Doyle with me here. Miss Doyle, what are we going to do?”

“Well, I can certainly tell you that I know the breed of the canine, it is a spaniel and it appears to be missing an ear.”

Georgie clasped a hand over her mouth.

“Missing a leg, Miss Doyle?”

“Yes, I searched the vicinity of the library and could not for the life of me recover the missing limb.”

Georgie couldn’t bear to hear any more of this. She turned off the radio. Mindlessly, she floated back into the back room and sat on the sofa. Rudyard and Antigone quietly sat next to her, and wrapped their arms around her as she quietly wept. Antigone continued to hug her as Rudyard wriggled out of their grasp and took to calling the radio station to inform Jennifer and Agatha of who the dog belonged to.


	7. Chapter 7

A small corner of the village cemetery was designated for pets. The cold overcast morning in late September would be one Georgie would remember for a long time. Homemade stones and markers laid across the small plot of land. Rudyard had been the one to dig the hole, Georgie silently lowered a small wooden box into the ground under a small stone that simply had “Timmy” crudely painted on it. Rudyard took his turn to take the shovel and shovel the dirt back over the pathetic coffin. The two of them quietly tread back home, his arm draped around Georgie’s shoulder. Antigone tried to express her condolences, but Georgie waved her away. For several days, she immersed herself in her work. Refusing to come out of her room, she worked on nothing spectacular. She added lights to the radio to make it look more futuristic, she played with cogs. Some villagers were brave enough to step foot on the porch of the cursed Funn Emporium in order to give their condolences to her. The mayor sent a letter. The local village hoodlums gave her a stone effigy of Timmy they had carved themselves. Agatha often came with sweets. Even Jennifer Delacroix stopped by to ask Rudyard what music Georgie liked so she could play it over the airwaves. Chapman would often try to stop by, but Rudyard didn’t even bother opening the door for him.  
Georgie laid on her sofa, sometimes picking her head up in hopes of seeing Timmy curled up, only to see nothing. Her heart cracked even more. The twins had come in a few times to check on her, but she only waved them away. Antigone would leave tea and biscuits at her door when she didn’t respond to her knocks. They were always gone by the time the sun went down.

“If we could bring him back, we would.” Rudyard had said softly.

She stared up at the ceiling. Nothing they could say could make her feel better. Her first friend on Piffling was gone. He wouldn’t be around to fetch extra parts or bark at Chapman. She curled up on her side, a tear slowly curled off of her nose. She felt one of the twins put a blanket over her as she closed her eyes.  
All the while Georgie mourned, the twins moved around in the attic with intent. Antigone knelt on the floor, stretching bike chains over loose gears. Rudyard paced, the wooden floorboards creaking with each step.

“Do you really think it’ll work?” Rudyard asked,

“We resurrected a mouse, it’s bound to work with a dog...Anyways, you just came back from propositioning a freakshow ringmistress on resurrecting a human who isn’t even dead yet.” 

Rudyard let out a breath, wondering outloud if the Alligator Man was even completely human to which Antigone glared at him.

“Am I to get him?” Rudyard sighed.

“Preferably.”

A knock on the door downstairs made both of them groan, as it had to be Chapman. Rudyard rushed down the stairs and threw open the front door, about to once and for all kick Chapman off his porch.

“Good evening, Rudyard!” He said cheerfully, huddled under an umbrella.

“It’s pouring rain.”

“Ah, I would have thought you’d-”

“What do you want, Chapman?”

“I saw the ringmistress leave your house the other day and I was wondering why,”

‘Why would it be your business?”

“She asked me earlier today if I could fix her carousel, some of the horses won’t move, you know? I was thinking maybe she had also asked you to try and fix it, and we would be working together!”

“I can assure you, she needed me for something much more important.” Rudyard sneered, trying to close the door. Eric stuck his foot out to block it.

“I had one more thing - I wanted to see if Georgie was around, maybe if she needed any comfort for the loss of Timmy.”

“We’ve been helping her just fine.”

“We?”

“I’ve been helping her just fine, for Christ’s sake, she’s not interested.” He said, once again trying to slam the door. Eric shoved his foot. Rudyard opened the door again and huffed.

“Rudyard. What is that?”

“My shirt, Chapman.”

“No, what’s that in your shirt pocket? Why does the little thing have screws sticking out of its neck...” He sighed, pointing at Madeleine, who poked her head out of the front pocket of Rudyard’s gray button-up shirt.

“This is my pet mouse- and uh, it’s her Halloween costume!”

Rudyard said, using his hand to guard Madeleine from Chapman’s leering eye. He managed to shove his foot away and shut the door in his face. Rudyard groaned, he knew that Chapman knew something. His eyes lowered to the wooden floorboards. Across the house their assistant who grew on them like family was upset and this was the only way she would be back. Rudyard waited for a moment before he headed out the door to the cemetery. Once he left, Antigone headed downstairs and snuck down to her brothers room. She took all of Rudyard’s metal coat hangers, and headed back up to the attic. She straightened out each coat hanger and twisted them together. Sure that it would reach a stronger bolt of lightning. Crashes of thunder grew louder. A little while later Rudyard stumbled through the attic door with the wooden box. He was soaking wet.

“Are those my coat hangers?” He asked as he placed the heavy box onto the floor.

“Georgie can build you drawers,” She said dismissively as she fed the coat hanger rope through the open attic window.

Rudyard slowly opened the makeshift casket, picking up the shrouded body and placing it onto the ironing board base. He grabbed an old umbrella, joining his sister at the window he attached the end of the umbrella to the mass of metal framing. Flashes of lightning illuminated their framework, the two of them stood back and waited for the lightning to catch on. A jagged finger of lightning exploded out of the sky. reaching the metal rope, it crawled down the framework and finally slammed into the ironing board. A bright flash very nearly blinded them as the room was filled with a thousand volts of electricity.   
Then everything went silent.  
Antigone reached for a stethoscope and put the pad to the lump under the white cloth. She removed the cloth, gently placing her hand over where Timmy’s heart was. Still nothing.

“I’m sorry, Georgie,” she murmured, despite her absence.

She caressed Timmy’s rough fur, his tail suddenly began to twitch. Rudyard and Antigone gasped and gathered closer to Timmy’s twitching body. Slowly, the spaniel got up and his tail wagged faster as Rudyard and Antigone pet him.

“What’s with all the noise?” Georgie grumbled, stumbling into the attic. When her eyes landed on her dog, she cried out and practically fell onto the iron board as she hugged her animal companion.

“You brought him back...” She sobbed happily.

“I told you we would if we could.” Rudyard said, placing a hand on Georgie’s shoulder.

Georgie was beyond words, she continued to hold onto Timmy. Eventually she took a good long look at him and realized there was something a bit wrong with him.

“What...what happened to his leg?”

“We didn’t know what to do about his missing leg so I made him a wooden one.” Rudyard said quietly.

Georgie dissolved into laughter, and wrapped her arms around the twins, thanking them. Though, now that Rudyard was sure the machine worked, he tried to make a proposition to Georgie. Antigone slapped his arm, hissing to him that this wasn’t the time. Timmy was as energetic as he always had been. His barks were a bit quieter than they had been before, which no one really minded. They sauntered down the stairs, both Rudyard and Timmy struggling slightly with their limps. Georgie turned to the small pile of gifts she had been given by the villagers. She read the letter Desmond had sent it her, and it reminded her that she forgot to tell Rudyard that he wanted to have tea with him sometime.  
Once she told him, he immediately declined. After a nonsensical back and forth of excuses, they reached a compromise. Rudyard would have tea with the mayor if Georgie allowed Marlene to see Timmy. Rudyard nearly begged Georgie to believe that it was not for the sake of exploitation but to prove that his work was to be trusted by the ringmistress. She agreed, as long as she could attend as well. Antigone, upon hearing that about the ringmistress, disappeared into her room again. All alone she sat on her bed. Clawing her skin nearly bloody, she clamped a hand over her mouth, suppressing her moans as she fought what her mind was thinking of the ringmistress.

The following brightly sunny afternoon, Rudyard tread through the square to the village hall. He found the mayor hiding underneath his desk for whatever reason. After helping the old man up, Rudyard took note that he didn’t have his glasses. The mayor explained that he misplaced them months ago, and had no time to find them as he was usually kept very busy. He implored Rudyard to sit down in the foyer while he went off to make tea in the kitchen. Rudyard looked around the old dusty village office, examining all the yellowing photos that lined the walls. He came across a class photo from his own childhood. He stared at it, trying to find himself in the photo, which wasn’t very difficult. He must have been about ten years old in the photo, standing right next to him was Antigone, her face obscured by her hair. The bell above the village hall door tingled and no other than Eric Chapman waltzed through the door.

“Oh, hello, Rudyard!”

Rudyard didn’t respond, he turned back to the photos on the wall. He tried looking for other photos of him and Antigone but found none. Eric joined him in examining the photos, he pointed at the old school photo. Smiling, he named nearly everyone in the photo, as if he had known them all along. He trailed off when he came across the girl standing next to Rudyard.

“Who’s that?” He inquired.

“Erm...probably one of those that died young,” He pointed at another boy in the photo, “He died a few years ago in a boating accident. A real tragedy.”

Eric said nothing, catching on to Rudyard’s discomfort. Rudyard came across one of his parents in front of their newly opened inventor’s emporium. A rage ignited inside of him but it was quickly extinguished by the sound of a cup shattering. Eric ran into the kitchen, followed by a limping Rudyard. The two men found Desmond on the ground squinting, trying to pick up the pieces of the broken tea cup. Eric helped Desmond up, assuring him that he could take care of it. Rudyard made a mental note to try and make Desmond some new glasses, or maybe create some sort of set that magnified and de-magnified at command or had night vision as well. His brain sketched out the glasses as he carelessly picked up the pieces of porcelain, he tossed them in the bin.

“Oh, I had forgotten I invited you as well, Eric! Rudyard, my dear boy, I hope you don’t mind.”

Rudyard sarcastically commented “The more, the merrier.”

Eric pulled a leather glasses case from his pocket, handing it to Desmond. He explained the features of the new glasses as the mayor adjusted them to his face. Rudyard suppressed a groan, of course Eric had beat him to it. He leaned against the stove.

“Rudyard.” Eric said. 

“Yes?”

“Your hand is smoking.”

Rudyard looked down at his hand pressed against the burning stove, smoke emanating from it.

“Ah, so it is.” He said, removing it. He stared at the grisly red welt on his hand, unsure of what to do. Catching Eric staring at him confused and worried, he quickly pretended that he was in agonizing pain. Dramatically he turned on the tap, dousing his hand in hot water. Not quite realizing his mistake he retracted his hand and asked for a bandage. Desmond scurried off and came back with a roll of white gauze.

Rudyard thanked him and quickly bandaged his hand.

“Well, thank goodness that wasn’t my writing hand,” He said by ways of a joke.

“Did that not hurt?”

“Clearly, it did hurt, Chapman. Did you not hear me crying out in pain?” He said with a sarcastic lilt.

“It took you too long to respond,”

“Now look here-”

“Now, boys,” Desmond said, stopping the oncoming argument in its tracks. “Let’s just have some  
tea, shall we?”

The two men reluctantly agreed. Back in the foyer, Rudyard sat in a cracked leather recliner, while Desmond and Eric sat together on a velvet sofa. Rudyard did not contribute much to the conversation, only replying that everything was “fine,” when asked about how Georgie, his leg, and his possible inventions were doing. He slipped out of the village hall unnoticed, as Desmond was too entranced by Eric’s stories to pay him much attention.  
At home, he lamented quietly to Madeleine, who only replied in little squeaks. As more time passed and the sun set on the island. Rudyard and Georgie, with Timmy in tow, headed towards the Piffling Freakshow’s grounds.


	8. Chapter 8

Rudyard pushed his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose as he clutched tightly to the silver  
carousel pole.  
How and why the ringmistress had convinced them to negotiate this via carousel was beyond him. Their ride choices, at that, were very nearly uncanny. A shire horse for Georgie, a gold and red accented unicorn for the ringmistress and her enthralling tone; and a black Pegasus for him, its wings tucked tightly to its side. Marlene pulled out a package of cigarettes and held it to her ear. She shook the paper box and frowned, tucking it back into her inner coat pocket. Georgie gripped the bronze pole of her own horse and leaned back, looking up at the gears in the roof of the carousel.  
Rudyard inquired about Patrick. The ringmistress deadpanned. “His condition is getting worse...his scales are turning purple. I’m not sure how long it’ll be at this point.”

“Are you going to have a funeral arranged?”

“Would it not be suspicious if he did not have one? Though I’m sure the reverend would likely want a cremation and then find a reason for the mayor to kick us out in order to rid the island of the freaks altogether.”

Rudyard thought to himself for a moment and agreed with her. Georgie glanced over at the ringmistress, and caught her reflection in the mirrored panels. A gorgeously tall woman, she couldn’t help but stare at the spinal cord whip that hung from her belt loop. She bit her lip and closed her eyes, leaning forwards to the carousel pole. Rudyard, still gripping the silver pole for dear life, also looked into the mirrored panels. The reflection of the carnival at dusk was an eerie sight. It was deserted, silent and haunting. He thought for a moment that Antigone would like the carnival when it was like this. As if it would be her own. Being how she was now, she couldn’t just walk the midway like everyone else could. She couldn’t throw on a dress and walk down to Agatha Doyle’s candy butchery and get a cone of cotton candy or a bag of peanuts. Rudyard made a mental note to ask Marlene if she could give Antigone her own show, if he ever managed to make her go outside. He shook the thought from his head once it realized that would require him to introduce the two. His shaken thought flew to Georgie’s mind as she thought the same. She snapped out of her fixed fantasy on the ringmistress’s whip. Her mind wondered, she could easily imagine Antigone getting really competitive at bottle throwing, or wanting a roughlooking plush toy from one of the other game booths. Georgie swung her legs over the side of the horse, Timmy happily yipping at her feet, just like he used to. A stray cat gracefully leaped from the top of a metal bin onto a closed booth, the metal lid clattering the the gravel. Timmy began to bark, and soon ran off the carousel to chase the stray cat. In a panic, Georgie ran after him, followed by Rudyard and Marlene. Rudyard shouted after her, they couldn’t let anyone see Timmy.

Reverend Nigel Wavering breathed in the cool autumn air. He sat on the stairs of the church, watching the night sky. He looked out onto the darkened cobblestone streets, a cat-shaped figure darted under the gaslight lamps, closely followed by a rather familiar dog-shaped one. One he was sure had died recently. Nigel’s eyes widened in realization and he ran back into the church, locking the doors tightly behind him. For the first time in his life, Nigel Wavering read the bible.

Meanwhile, on one side of the village square, Eric Chapman paced back and forth in his bedroom. There was no possible way that one could resurrect the dead. When you’re dead, you’re dead. Your cells die and decay just like the rest of you. He stopped pacing and sat at his oak rolltop desk. Though, wouldn’t it be nice to talk to a deceased loved on again? He took out a leatherbound notebook and began writing, but none of it made any sense. He became frantic, tearing out pages. He thought a nice walk around the village would calm his nerves. As he walked out onto the square, a cat darted in front of him, closely followed by Georgie’s dog, Timmy. It took a moment for it to click. Eric whipped his head towards the dark, but the dog was already long gone. He heard shouting from a distance and soon enough a panting Georgie stopped on the square, trying to catch her breath. She fell to her knees.

“Oh, Georgie! I’ve been meaning to see you. How are you holding up?” Eric asked, helping Georgie up.

“I’m fine, Eric.” She sneered.

“Glad to hear it. Though, I must ask, it is your dog that died, yes?”

“Yes I really don’t appreciate you bringing it up.”

“I apologize, and I also apologize at how ridiculous this sounds but I swear I saw your dog, a spaniel and well-”

“Chapman, are you plastered? What a ridiculous thought.” Georgie said, straightening herself up.

Finally Rudyard and the ringmistress caught up to her, Rudyard doubled over with his hands on his knees trying to catch their breath.

“Well, can I ask why you were calling Timmy’s name then?”

“Listen, Eric,” She spat, “I just saw a dog that looked like Timmy, alright?”

“She’s overcome with grief, Chapman!” Rudyard intervened, he and Georgie headed back into the darkness, leaving for a moment the ringmistress in Eric’s presence.

He inquired to her if there was any way he could be of help, emphasizing his own successes with fixing the carousel and how, after all, he was running a highly successful inventor’s emporium. Marlene rolled her eyes, making it clear Rudyard had what she needed. He asked about how Patrick was doing, and her eyes softened. Her shoulders fell as she quietly lamented to him about how she wished she had more time. Before Eric could even try to comfort her, she turned on her heels and rushed across the square in tears.

Eric almost called after her, but decided against it. Something in her demeanor made wires in his brain click together. He went to the seaside and sunk onto the sand. Staring out in the sea, he reflected. Grief was a terrible thing. Death came upon everyone, but it seemed Rudyard had found a way to reverse it. It would make people so happy if they were able to see their deceased loved ones again. The moon shone reflected in the dark sea water, the waves softly crashing against the sand. Eric Chapman went back home and looked over at the perpetually dark Funn Emporium, he noticed a light in the attic, where inside a peculiar woman stayed hidden with her own thoughts.

The ringmistress hadn’t left Antigone’s mind since she first saw her. She even wormed her way into her dreams. It frustrated her, she wanted the woman who was much too tall to just go away and never return. Antigone sat at the top step and waited patiently. She knew where Rudyard and Georgie had gone and hoped they’d bring her back for more negotiations. Right on cue, Rudyard came in to the foyer, followed by the ringmistress.  
Antigone sat in the darkness, and twisted her fingers in an attempt to distract herself from the bizarre beauty of the malign ringmistress. Each twist that should have been painful turned rather pleasurable. She clasped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from making any noise. She listened quietly. Talks of Eric Chapman rang through her ears. She sneered. She listened to her brother talk about the alligator man, the eagerness in his voice disgusted her. She heard the reluctance in the ringmistress’s voice. She could tell how much the alligator man meant to her. Antigone had had enough of Rudyard and his experiments and his growing callousness. Ever since his nervous system was wracked, he had been so careless. She wanted the ringmistress to go away, to not bother with her brother’s experiments and to just mourn through the normal cycle of life and death.  
Angrily, Antigone got up and barreled down the stairs, shouting at Marlene to go away, to get out of their house.  
Marlene stumbled back at the sight, a frail woman with wild unkempt hair, shock of white hair fell in front of the woman’s mad eyes.  
Rudyard pleaded with Marlene to stay as she stumbled towards the door.

“It seems you don’t need my help!” she shouted as she ran out of the dilapidated home, slamming the door behind her.

Exasperated, Rudyard turned around, ready to yell at his sister for ruining his plans; but she had already vanished. Behind her closed door, Antigone let out sigh of relief. She had made herself known, but it still hurt somehow. She wanted to feel real again but memories left her corroding inside. The look of horror on the mistresses's face made her deeply unhappy. If the village saw her brother as a monster, then so was she, one hidden in the shadows. She crawled onto her rickety bed, knowing in her heart it was better if she remained unknown. 

Rudyard sighed, sinking to the floor as he leaned against the front door. He sat there expressionless until Georgie nudged his foot.

“I got Timmy.”

“Great.”

“There’s a problem, though.”

“What?”

“The reverend found him.”


	9. Chapter 9

Rudyard stood in front of the large oak doors of the church, taking a deep breath, he pushed them open. It took him a week to find the courage to actually confront the reverend. He hadn’t been inside the church since the passing of his parents. As though through a long dormant instinct, he walked directly to the confessional booth.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Rudyard.”

“Reverend”

“How could you do that, Rudyard? It isn’t normal...even by God’s standards.”

Rudyard scrunched his face, since when was the reverend actually religious?

“Reverend, may I explain? My brain has claimed it’s glory over me. I’ve a good heart, albeit insane-”

“You know, some people would condemn you to the infirmary.”

Rudyard shuddered. He remembered a time his parents almost did the same thing to him and Antigone, when they were only kids. They were just children, playing. Siblings fighting like normal kids would. He shook his head, shaking away the memory.

“I was just trying to be a good friend, I plead to you have mercy on me. No one was supposed to know. It was just for us.” Rudyard said, staring out in front of him.

“Whatever happened to your sister?” The reverend suddenly asked.

“How did you remember her?”

“I baptized you both.”

“She’s not dead.”

Nigel looked at him through the rusting grid of the confessional separation.  
“She was never dead.”

“Where is she?”

“At home. She’s been there for 18 years. She never left.”

Sorrow found its way into the reverend’s heart.

"Tell her I remember her."

Rudyard left the church, bumping directly into Chapman as he left.

“Oh good evening, Rudyard!”

Rudyard grumbled, asking why he was at the church.

“Well, I’m just popping in to talk to the reverend.”

“What, during confessional times? What do you have to confess?”

“If I told you then I wouldn’t have to talk to the reverend,” he laughed, “though I must admit I’m not all that religious, and well neither is he, but anyways it’s always good to get advice from someone who is so wise.”

Rudyard snorted at the sentiment and walked off without another word. He distantly heard Chapman call out “enjoy yourself!” to him and he walked away faster as best he could.

“Oi, Rudyard Funn!” A crass voice shouted.

Rudyard stopped in his tracks, who the hell could possibly want to bother him now? He turned to see the pot bellied newspaper editor Sid Marlowe.

“I thought you were dead, after that fall and all! I got a great picture of you falling, by the way.”

“Great...”

“How have you been, by the way?”

“I’m fine.”

“Hey listen, why don’t you have a copy of today’s newspaper - free of charge!” He said, handing him one from the top of the stack. Rudyard glanced at the headline.

“Chapman’s opening a funeral home?”

“Oh yeah! Takes a great load off the reverend. Anyways, check this out, though! We’ve got a real mystery on our hands.” He said, pointing to the square of text underneath the headline. There was a black and white photo of a silhouette leaving the graveyard. Rudyard picked up the newspaper and began to read the article out loud,  
“What do they do at night? Hidden in shadow out of sight in the cemetery, a mysterious figure has been spotted exiting the village cemetery ...”

“Keep reading. Fascinating stuff, right?”

He scanned the page.

“Mr. Marlowe, who took this photo?”

“I dunno, it was sent in anonymously.”

Rudyard folded the paper, and thanked Mr. Marlowe for his time. He limped as fast as he could home, where he found Georgie and Antigone fiddling with the dials and antenna of the radio.

“This thing never works when it’s supposed to!” Antigone groaned, hitting the top of the box.

It lit up.

“-And what of the black dog?” Jennifer DeLaCroix’s voice crackled through the speakers, followed by Mayor Desmond’s.

“That lovely man Eric Chapman successfully detained the beast,”

The Funns groaned, Georgie rolled her eyes. Though, all registering what exactly was said, they listened closely.

“So, in that case your worship, what is to be done?”

“She and her showcase of freaks have been told to leave the island, I do believe the reverend was sent to inform them of that.”

Without a word, Rudyard threw on his coat and ran out the door; leaving Antigone to comfort Georgie about the beast that hurt her dog. Once Rudyard reached where the freakshow stood, he put his hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath. A shadow came over him, and he looked up to once again be face to face with Marlene Magdalena, a bitter expression on her face.

“Miss Magdalena, please. You can’t leave just yet.”

“We shall be staying, for the funeral. The reverend told us we are to leave after the funeral. It’s come to my attention that the one called Chapman has opened a funeral home and offers natural burials. I’m sure such a thing would be useful for our...your experiment...”

“Yes, of course.”

“Also, I have one request.”

“Anything.”

“I want to know who that woman is, the one you keep locked in your home,” She laughed at the absurdity, “and they say I’m the cruel one!”

“Now look here, my sister chooses to stay hidden!”

Marlene’s eyes softened for a moment. She should be one to talk, she works with the othered. Rudyard held his breath for a moment, but agreed to it.  
Chapman had somehow convinced the mayor to allow Patrick the Alligator Man to be buried in the village cemetery with the rest of those deemed normal. Rudyard stood impatiently outside the ringmistress’s caravan, it seeming so much more ominous than it would in the daylight. He rocked on the balls of his feet, his hands shoved in his coat pockets. He shivered. The ringmistress emerged from her caravan, a red scarf wrapped around her neck. Chilly autumn wind left blushes on their skin as they marched up the crooked street to Funn Emporium. She looked up at the rotting building, for a moment she swore she saw someone in the attic window. The ringmistress removed her top hat as Rudyard unlocked the door. He waved her off to the attic, not wanting to be there for their interaction. He traipsed down into his own bedroom. The house was dark, exposed bulbs hung overhead lifeless. Standing in the foyer, she saw movement up the stairs. Her eyes met the faint outline of a woman. That creepy girl that had chased her out of the house. She was unmoving in the darkness, as if the ringmistress had interrupted her descent. Marlene took a step up the creaking wood panels.

“Hey,” she began, unwinding the scarf from her neck.

The shadow took a step backwards up the stairs. Marlene took another step, and another. The shadowed woman took each step back up, until she hit the door at the top of the stairs. She quickly opened the door and slammed it shut behind her, hiding inside. The ringmistress continued to climb the stairs. Once she hit the door, she knocked quietly. No response came. She wasn’t going to let this creepy girl get away from her so easily. Perhaps she’d strike a trade with Rudyard. This strange woman for another one of her freaks. She reached for the doorknob, slowly turning it. She opened the door, scanning the room for the strange woman. She found her hunched over a machine near the window.

“I need to fix it.” The frail woman said.

“Who are you?” Marlene asked.

“I’m not finished.”

Marlene slowly approached the shadowed woman, who looked more scared than she recalls.

“What is your name, creepy girl?”

Antigone ignored her, moving around the electrical Rube Goldberg machine. She pretended to fix something, hoping that the ringmistress would just go away. Marlene was not about to give up so easily, she placed her hand on the creepy girl’s shoulder.

“Don’t you dare touch me.” She hissed, turning around.

Antigone stopped, staring at the ringmistress’s face. A deep scar crossed over her right eye, the pupil a sickly pale grey. She reached for Marlene’s face, her thumb gently caressing the scar.

“You’re broken...I can fix that...I can fix that easily...If you leave me alone, I’ll complete you.” The creepy girl mumbled, mostly to herself.

Before Marlene could respond, the woman shuffled off to the cluttered shelves. She watched her carefully pick up a jar and presented it to her. The fogged glass filled to the brim with eyeballs.

“I’ve never seen an eye like yours...such a deep green...” She mumbled, carefully searching through the jar with a metal spoon.

“Who are you?” Marlene asked. She softly wrapped her fingers around the woman’s wrist. She turned it over, fixated on the long claw marks that dragged over her porcelain skin. 

The creepy girl ignored her, wrenching her arm away. She scooped out an eye with a deep blue iris, the optic nerve vulgarly hanging over the edge of the spoon.

“This is the best I can do...”

Marlene tightened her grip. “Who are you?”

“I’m nobody, who are you?”

“My name is Marlene Magdalena.” She hissed.

“My brother fairs too much for you.” The woman murmured, “I can fix your eye. I can complete you. I’m always the one who completes these things...I get no appreciation...” There she went, talking to herself again.

“Can you make it work?”

“I can.”

Marlene took a step back and touched the scar over her eye, a remnant from a fight with her father. She took a moment to take a closer, almost voyeuristic look at the woman standing before her. Nobody, rejected. A sister forgotten by absolutely everyone. She looked into the forlorn woman’s eyes and accepted her offer. The creepy girl will complete her, and make her whole again.  
Rudyard emerged from the basement. He held in his hands a light bulb attached to a small geared body. Long spiderlike metal prongs jutted out of the body. He set it at the bottom of the stairs. He turned his head towards Madeleine on his shoulder, the two of them nodded and set the flickering bulb spider free. The little mechanical creature crawled up towards the ajar basement door. It slipped in quietly, unknown to Antigone while she slowly moved her scalpel towards the unconscious ringmistress’s eye. Out of the corner of hers, she became aware of the moving light. She swiftly turned around to face the bulb spider. Letting out a small cry, she kicked the mechanized creature against the wall, with a loud crack, the metal pieces flew apart. She took a moment to catch her breath, clutching her scalpel in hand. Rudyard moved into the attic.

“What’d you do that for?” He whined.

“What the hell is that?”

“It was a crawling lamp! Chapman hasn’t made one yet! It can guide your way through darkness.”

“That’s horrendous.”

Rudyard let his shoulders fall. Madeleine crawled into his shirt pocket as he moved towards the broken pieces of his bulb spider. He quickly took notice of the ringmistress laying on his sister’s bed.

“What have you done to her?” He asked angrily.

“I haven’t done anything! I’m fixing her eye.”

He looked at her skeptically, but quietly accepted her words as truth. He stayed in the attic, silently watching her, making sure nothing went wrong in the process. As Antigone carefully scooped out Marlene’s eye, it slid out of the socket with a wet pop. It hung loosely to the side, nerves fraying. She suddenly realized that she couldn’t possibly reattach the nerves properly so they would work. She bit her lip at the thought of what the terrifying ringmistress would do to her if she didn’t keep her promise. She swallowed her pride, and with a jerk, she tore Marlene’s dead eye out of her head. She heard Rudyard let out a sob behind her. She hissed at him to back off. She stared into the milky pupil, turning it over in her gloved hands. Carefully, she placed it on the metal tray on her bedside table, next to a small bottle of chloroform and a cloth that had knocked out the ringmistress. Rudyard stood nearby, sensing his sister’s hesitation and confusion. He pulled a small rusted tin from his trouser pocket and gave it to her. A crudely written label simply read “nerve salve.” She looked at her brother quizzically. He shrugged, telling her he played around with some chemicals and nerve endings and ended up with that. Antigone’s eyes darted between the tin and her brother’s eyes. She sneered, and swiftly took the tin from him.

“Is this going to work?” She asked.

“It better, or the ringmistress is going to add your spine to her whip.”

Taking a deep breathe, Antigone pushed the mayor’s stolen glasses to the bridge of her nose, and began her surgery. Hours passed. Eventually, Marlene Magdalena slowly opened her eyes to a dark peaked wooden ceiling. It took her a moment to adjust but she soon realized she was able to see with both of her eyes. Her eyes met those of the creepy girl, who loomed near her. Her hand was clutched over her mouth. She turned her head and looked at the creepy girl’s brother.

“Did it work...?” The creepy girl asked, but she wasn’t asking Marlene as she was facing Rudyard.

“I hope so.” Rudyard said, fiddling with two fitted pieces of metal, bending them together and apart.

Marlene groaned, unable to properly move. She closed her eyes, asleep once again.

She awoke as the sun rose, her new and old eyes adjusting to the early morning light. It was the kind that left the outside colors muted while the indoors remained dark. The metal springs of the old bed she laid in creaked loudly as she rose, startling awake the creepy girl laying on the floor.

“Miss Magdalena, I...” She began, trailing off. Quickly standing up, she tried to smooth out the wrinkles of her dress. She stammered, unable to form a proper sentence. Marlene quickly took note that she was wearing her red ringleader’s jacket, the gold rope hooks hung loosely.

“You...are you wearing my jacket?”

Antigone rambled, profusely apologizing as she explained that she had been cold. She quickly removed the garment, tossing it nervously onto the bed next to the ringmistress.  
“Did you sleep on the floor?” Marlene asked, she pressed the heel of her hand to her eye.

“Well, I mean I had to. You were still asleep...uhm...does your eye hurt?”

“Yes.”

“I can get you some ice! We have ice...I think...I can get Georgie to get you ice...” She said, shivering slightly.

“Thank you, creepy girl.” She said, she opened her mouth the speak once more. Uttering the repeated question of "Does that not hurt?" 

She shook her head, words failing her. How could she even begin to explain that she enjoyed it? Marlene got up from the bed, she scrunched her face to keep the pained eye closed. She rested her jacket over Antigone’s shoulders. 

“Wait. You should stay sitting. I can go get Rudyard.” She pressed her hands onto Marlene's shoulders, pushing her back onto the bed. The red jacket fell from her shoulders. She picked it up from the dusty wood floor and hesitantly pulled it on. Marlene’s eyes softened, a small smile tugged the corner of her mouth. Antigone’s face burned scarlet at the way the ringmistress looked at her, she quickly turned away and descended the stairs. In the kitchen, she encountered her brother. He was much too tired to question why she was wearing the ringmistress’s jacket. Georgie emerged from the back room, surprised at the sight.

“Did it work?” She asked just as Antigone said,

“Georgie, go get the ringmistress some ice.”

“Uh, sure, yeah.”

Creaking came from the stairs and into the kitchen came the ringmistress, her hand still covering her eye, Georgie soon returned with a cloth bag full of ice. The four of them sat at the kitchen table and began to discuss their course of action.


	10. Chapter 10

The plan was simple, really. Chapman held Patrick’s funeral later that day and the corpse should be fresh enough that they could reanimate it. Late in the night, Georgie threw her hood on. Lighting her gas lamp, she headed to the cemetery. Hidden in the shadows unnoticed, Jennifer DeLaCroix entered in after her. What does she do at night - hidden and out of sight like that?

Georgie scanned each of the headstones, searching for the recent burial. Once she found it at the very edge of the cemetery where the pet tombstones began. She took a moment to look at Timmy’s now obsolete stone. Turning back to Patrick’s burial plot, began to shovel away the dirt. As she hit the wooden lid of the coffin six feet later, she hurriedly cleaned away the rest of the dirt. She pried open the lid of the coffin, only to find it empty. Confused and mildly horrified, she scrambled out of the grave, her legs dangling on the edge inside. She clutched her shovel in her hands. Jennifer, who had been hiding behind a nearby tree, thought this was a great opportunity to approach her about what on earth she was doing here, digging by lamplight in the graveyard.

The radio host slowly approached, crouching a bit down and reaching for Georgie’s shoulder, just as the would be bodysnatcher got up. Feeling something touching her, she cried out and swung her shovel around, knocking Jennifer out cold with a loud clang. Realizing it wasn’t the missing corpse somehow already resurrected, Georgie began to panic, dropping her shovel and falling to her knees. She pressed her fingers to Jennifer’s neck,  
_‘Okay, she still has a pulse. Good_’ she thought. Georgie hid the shovel behind a thicket of bushes and trees and stuffed the handle of the lamp into her mouth. With a grunt, she lifted the unconscious radio journalist onto her back and carried her back to her home. The thing was, Georgie wasn’t actually sure as to where Jennifer lived. She had a relative idea as to which street she lived, and so she carried her there. Finding her house proved actually rather easy, her mailbox was painted purple with the words “DeLaCroix” painted in yellow. Convenient. The second issue was how was she going to get this girl to her room. The antenna and wires sticking out of the second floor window implied that was her bedroom. Ivy grew along a fence against the side of the house. Georgie dropped the lantern. She pulled Jennifer’s long sleeves together and tied them and began to climb. She heard Jennifer begin to groan and begged for her to not wake up right then and there and she continued her way up. Finally reaching the landing, she struggled to open the window wider. Climbing through, Jennifer still somehow on her back, she managed to drop the girl onto her bed, untying her sleeves. Panting and groaning, she sat down on a desk chair and tried to catch her breath. As she got up to make her escape she looked around Jennifer’s room. Broadcasting equipment cluttered the room, one side was just shelves upon shelves of extra microphones, cords, a synthesizer, cassettes, among other things. She looked down at the desk, taking notice of an opened notebook. She glanced at its pages, dismissing them as her script. A paragraph about Eric Chapman caught her eye. Jennifer began to groan again, Georgie made a mental note about the paragraph and quickly made her escape through the window. Jennifer merely caught a glimpse of the figure crawling out the window. Her head hurt like hell, not quite knowing how she was back in her bed. She stumbled off of her bed, rummaging around for something to fix her headache.

Georgie quickly made her way back to Funn Emporium only to find the house pitch black. In all fairness, the house was usually very dark save for the hanging bulbs and occasional candle. She saw faint glowing coming from the kitchen and found the twins sitting at the table around neon tinted food.

“What is this?”

“Chapman opened a restaurant where you dine with glow in the dark meals.” Antigone mumbled.

“Powered by vitamin b12.” Rudyard added with a sarcastic tone.

“Is this okay to eat?”

“Yes,” Rudyard said, shoveling the glowing pasta into his mouth.

Georgie made her way to the table. She picked up a glass of glowing blue liquid and downed it. Oddly minty, but it tasted fine. She inquired as to how they got ahold of the food, and was told Chapman stopped by with meals for them, well, meals for Rudyard and Georgie. Antigone apologized for eating the food technically meant for her. She waved her off, considering herself lucky that she managed to miss the encounter, but had to press on with what she had found in Jennifer’s room. She lamented not having read the notebook closer. Antigone implored her to go back to the beginning of the story, as she had completely skipped over why exactly she was in Jennifer Delacroix’s room in the first place. Upon recounting the story, the Funns looked frankly aghast at the thought of Georgie knocking out the radio host with a shovel.

“I panicked! You would have done the same,” She accused.

The Funns didn’t argue with her. Georgie needed answers, right then and there. She turned around and headed towards the door.

“Now look here, Georgie. Where are you going?” Rudyard demanded, grabbing her arm.

“I’m going to take care of this, sir.” She said firmly, placing her newsboys cap lazily on her head. She jerked her arm away, and walked out the door.

She marched up those crooked streets, searching for her once again. Finding her was quite easy, as Jennifer was waiting for her right outside her home. They locked eyes, Georgie at the end of the street and Jennifer waiting patiently outside her home. Her skin was darker than any glancing touch of the sun could produce, a colour that reminded Georgie of a warm late-autumn day.

“What did you do to me?” Jennifer asked.

“What?”

“I know what I saw in that graveyard. It wasn’t a dream.”

Georgie pressed her rough hands against Jennifer’s arms, pinning her to the front door.

“What do you know?”

“I know you can resurrect the dead. I also know that Eric Chapman is trying to do the same thing.”

“What?”

“It’s supposed to be a new feature of his new funeral home. Resurrecting loved ones in order to talk to them again.”

“How do you know this?”

“I happen to know a great deal about a lot of things.”

Georgie let go of her. She shoved her hands into her coat pocket. Jennifer knew something and she needed to know more. These insane ideas were getting out of hand. They quickly devised a plan, Georgie knowing quiet ways to enter Chapman’s. The two of them moved through the garden. Jennifer stared upwards, thinking they would have to climb. Georgie grabbed her hand, pulling her towards a square of light that peaked from behind a rose bush. The two of them stared down into the lab, as far at they could see, it was empty. She tried the window and it crashed downward in, slamming against the wall. Georgie cursed, but their suspicions were correct - the lab was empty. Near the window was a large steel machine. Georgie climbed through the window, reaching the machine. She helped Jennifer through. Hopping down from the machine, she once again helped Jennifer onto the clean linoleum tile floor.

“This is bloody amazing!” Jennifer looked around in awe at the state-of-the-art futuristic laboratory. She was about to point out more before a door at the top of a set of stairs opened, and Eric Chapman came down. Georgie clamped her hand over Jennifer’s mouth, pulling her further into the shadows behind the retort. The two of them watched quietly.  
Eric moved swiftly to a pair of large metal doors, as he opened them, freezing air billowed into the room. After a moment, he emerged from the freezer with a metal cart with a long cardboard box on it. Jennifer murmured something about how it was just Chapman’s embalming process. He had just opened a funeral home after all. Georgie shushed her and pointed to what Eric was doing.

Chapman strapped down the frozen corpse of the recently deceased Alligator Man, otherwise known as Patrick. He clasped a metal frame over the corpse’s head, wires attached to electrical stickers around the chest. Eric needed not nature but rather a machine of his own design. The sleek finish of the large machine reflected brightly in the lights of the lab. Beehive like conductors stood tall on each end. With all the pieces in the right place, he moved to the wall and flipped a large switch. Electricity flickered up the machine towers, moving down the wires into the body of the Alligator Man’s corpse. His body shook, smoke began to rise from the wires. All at once, it stopped.  
Jennifer held her breathe, Georgie’s hand once again clamped over her mouth to stop her from gagging on the smell of burning flesh. Eric held a stethoscope to Patrick’s chest. There was nothing. There wasn’t ever anything. No movement, no heartbeat. Nothing. He didn’t understand. His calculations, his research, it all had to be correct. He slammed his fists against the metal slab. Sighing heavily, he untethered Patrick and slid him mindlessly into the cremation machine. The clang scaring Jennifer and Georgie, who ran from the lab as Eric turned to turn on the retort. They hid in the garden of Chapman’s property. Jennifer threw up grotesquely into the rose bushes. Georgie pulled her knees up to her chest, trying to figure out what they were going to do.

In his lab, Eric slammed back a bottle of whiskey as he watched with intent the fires that roared over his fifth failure. He was sure that a fresh natural burial would have sufficed. The older embalmed bodies had been no good. A visceral frustration grew inside his stomach. It moved through his veins as he dropped the bottle, breaking into shards against the tile. There was more where that came from. There was a variable he had been missing, and it wasn’t something he could create in his lab.

Without warning, a visibly drunk Eric Chapman stumbled into Funn Emporium, a bewildered look on his face. He cried out Rudyard’s name. Both of the Funns were were taken aback by the sudden appearance of Chapman in their kitchen, most of all Antigone, who found herself unable to escape into the shadows. A simultaneous fascination and genuine fear coursed through her system.

“I don’t get it, Rudyard! How the hell did you do it?” He slurred.

“Do what?” Rudyard asked cautiously, putting up his hands to keep away the ever approaching Eric.

“Revive the dead!” He exclaimed, clutching Rudyard’s shoulders. At that moment a bolt of lightning crashed in the sky.

“Chapman, get a hold of yourself.” He grimaced, trying to remove Chapman’s hands.

There was nothing to do about it. Eric’s eyes landed on Antigone. He pointed at her, demanding to know how Rudyard could have done such a thing. A sudden loud clang echoed through the house, and Eric Chapman collapsed onto the floor. As he fell, Georgie was revealed to be behind him, clutching her shovel. The Funns stared at her in utter disbelief, she looked up at them, a look of fear neither of they had ever seen before on Georgie worried them. Antigone glanced beside her assistant to see the girl from the radio station. She clutched the back of the wooden kitchen chair, fighting the urge to hide. The two girls frantically explained what they had found in Chapman’s home. Unsure of what to do, knowing that waking up the village in the middle of the night was out of the question - they all broke away from each other to devise their own plans.  
Rudyard did not wait a moment before he began his own experiments.

Late in the night, Chapman was bound tightly to a wooden chair. As he slowly began to wake up, he became aware of his surroundings, he knew he was in Funn Emporium. He groaned, unable to speak. His head pounded agonizingly. He heard Rudyard’s voice, but was unable to place him.

“Didn’t you ever get it, Chapman? No one was supposed to know about our machine. It was only meant for us. You are the one who wants to exploit it... and they said I was the cruel one...”

It started off slowly, just to see if he could. To see if he would be successful.  
Rudyard felt absolutely nothing when he yanked out his own eyeball. Eric felt absolutely everything when Rudyard yanked out his. His screams of agony muffled by the twisted pieces of fabric bound around his mandible. His tear ducts ruptured, clouded red tears seeped down his face. Rudyard dropped his old eyeball in a glass of water on his bedside table. He examined Eric’s. A pale blue iris stared blankly back at him. Slinking over to his dusty wooden shelves where a broken mirror piece leaned, he stared at himself in the grimy mirror and sneered. He would be better. With great determination he coated each end of the nerves of Eric’s eye with the nerve salve. Painstakingly he reattached the nerves to his own. Gradually his vision returned, and once the last nerves were connected, Rudyard was fully able to see out of Eric’s - now his - left eye. He laughed with sickening glee. Chapman could only believe that whatever else the devil had in store for him was less horrendous than the sickening laughter that echoed through the basement.


	11. Chapter 11

Antigone quietly sulked downstairs and greeted her brother the following morning. Rudyard greeted her brightly, despite the fact that he looked like he had not slept at all. Though she thought she knew her brother well, she couldn’t figure out what was wrong with him. Her mind raced, her face propped in her hand. His glasses were missing. Had he figured out a way of curing bad vision? In the dim light, Antigone noticed grimy stains streaked down Rudyard’s face. Her arm dropped onto the table with a bang when the pieces fell together. Rudyard didn’t even wait for Antigone to react vocally.

“It’s brilliant, isn’t it? Finally, I can be better than Eric Chapman.” He said.

“By taking his eyes?” She sneered.

“Not only that! I have so many plans for him, Antigone. It’ll be brilliant!”

Antigone had no words. She covered her mouth with her hand, listening intently to Rudyard’s rotten plans.

Though, one had to admit his demeanor was much brighter. He walked around the village alongside Georgie, happily greeting everyone he encountered, much to their own confusion. At the market, he took in the bright colours of Petunia Bloom’s arrangements, striking up a conversation with the mayor while he was as it.

“Oh, have you seen Eric recently?” The mayor asked.

“I can’t say that I have, but all the while who cares? Now we’re back to having only one inventor’s emporium-mine.”

“Rudyard, he has other businesses to attend to...I’m quite addicted to the strawberry shortcake in his bakery, but nothing of his is open,” He looked at him and adjusted the glasses Eric had made for him, “Rudyard, have you always had such lovely eyes?”

Rudyard began to stammer. Georgie eyed the mayor, trying to think of a reason to suggest why Eric was missing. Another villager joined the conversation, Tanya.

“You know, I don’t mean to eavesdrop but I have heard from that girl on the radio that Eric has been working on something very extraordinary! Maybe he’s just busy in his lab, working about.”

Rudyard and Georgie let out quiet sighs of relief. Other villagers chimed in on the conversation.

“He’s all the way in there, locked away inside.”

“Never says a word,”

“Hope he hasn’t died.”

“Oh, God forbid.”

While the villagers talked to one another, theorizing on what his next invention was going to be, Rudyard and Georgie slipped away and back to Funn Emporium. They found Jennifer Delacroix at the door, poised to knock just as they arrived.

“We need to tell the village.” Jennifer said.

“How?”

“I can do it,” Jennifer said, “but I don’t know how I would make everyone’s radio turn on.”

“I can do that,” Georgie said. “It might take a while, though...”

“You two need to work fast then,” Rudyard said. The two girls went of to Jennifer’s house. “and so do I...” He mumbled to himself as he entered his home. He wondered how long it was going to take until the ringmistress came to make him the new coming attraction, a shudder zipped down his spine.

Antigone was disgusted by each endeavor, but stood by nonetheless to make sure that Rudyard didn’t kill himself. She helped stitch together limbs and stick bones into sockets like puzzle pieces. She made a batch of salve and helped jump start the newly attached muscles with a circuit powered by Madeleine running on a little wheel.  
Eric felt everything throughout this ordeal. His life on a cycle of being drained from him and being forced to stay alive by Rudyard’s maddening electrical contraptions. He grew bolder. Antigone watched over him as he tore himself apart and replaced his limbs with Chapman’s. His was better, that was his logic. His teeth were whiter, his arms were stronger, his hands were more skilled. There were certain things that he thankfully couldn’t figure out how to replace. Vocal cords, for example. Antigone refused to help any longer. Part of her grew terrified of her brother’s increasing madness, but more than that was the sounds of agony and nauseating smell of lacerated flesh sent a pique that made her wish she could feel pain again like she used to. Rudyard carefully sliced open the skin around Eric’s stomach. Peeling off the tissue inch by inch, skinning off the muscles. He pulled at the fleshy mass of guts from Eric’s stomach cavity. His goal for a stronger stomach, healthier lungs. Eric's heart had stopped beating, but that didn’t take away Rudyard’s fun. He hadn’t noticed that his sister had escaped upstairs with Madeleine as he shoved his arm up into the cavity and managed to move Eric’s mouth like a ventriloquist’s dummy.

“Enjoy yourself!” he said in a mocking tone.

His laughter was low, and soon grew louder as he continued his show. He called to Antigone, asking her to look at what he was able to do. He realized he was alone, his smile dropped. He stared into his old eyes, one had grown a murky, dull tone. It wasn’t lost on him that was looking into his own eyes, in the head of his worst enemy. He jerked his arm out of Eric’s carcass, shaking the ichor off angrily. He scoffed. No one ever appreciated his work, how self-absorbed people could be.

At another part of the village, Georgie and Jennifer sat in her room, working tirelessly to hijack the airwaves across the village. Each day they tried something new. With each test came nothing, until during one particular point of Georgie shouting several curse words into the microphone; the rotary phone on Jennifer’s desk rang. On the other end, Mayor Desmond demanded to know what the meaning of this was. Jennifer apologized profusely, assuring the mayor it would never happen again. Her phone rang again, with the reverend demanding to know why on God’s green earth he just heard a young woman shout profanities from his radio. Jennifer apologized again and hung up. Once more, it rang. On the other end was Sid Marlowe, asking if he could quickly interview her about what just occurred on the radio. She sped through his questions, and finally hung up. After doing so, the two of them burst into laughter.

“Of all the times it had to work...” she lightly smacked Georgie’s arm.

Georgie playfully pushed her, “At least we know it worked.” Jennifer gently pushed her back, which she tried to do in return, but the radio host leaned away from Georgie and fell over - resulting in Georgie falling on top of her. A tint of red brushed her cheeks and she quickly scrambled away. Jennifer adjusted her glasses as she got up, stammering through the suggestion that they go ahead and tell Rudyard their endeavor was done. They hadn’t realized how late it was in the night, Jennifer offering that Georgie could sleep over. Georgie made it clear that it was better if they told Rudyard immediately.

All Eric wanted was for Rudyard to let him rest in peace. Was that so easy? With this deathly pallor, dislocated legs, and no sympathy thrown his way. Spitting maggots, not so charming, was he? Rudyard had tried to be more like him, maybe he should try something too. He was finished. He demanded that Antigone revive Chapman’s autopsied body for the hell of it.  
Antigone paced her room, biting her nails bloody. He left the hardly alive Eric to Antigone’s desires. To which she had no interest. Rudyard failed to stitch his old weak arm to properly to Eric’s shoulder. The bone slid outwards at an awkward angle. It hung loosely from the thread before falling off altogether. The sight of his flayed, now very pale skin made her sick, brown rotten blood oozed from poorly stitched seams. He was nothing more than a shambling hunk with hardly any wits about him. She stared at him. His shirtless being dropped like a ragdoll on the floor, legs outstretched in front of him. He leaned against the wall, and stared at her blankly. It took her a moment to notice fresher blood seeping down his chiseled face. The source being a scar running along his forehead and around. She couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. He groaned.

“This...” he began, his voice raspy and torn, “is a fate worse than death...”

She spat at him to never speak, not knowing what to do with this living corpse in her room. She left him there and slammed the door.  
Reaching the kitchen, she came face to face with what surely was once Rudyard Funn.

She beheld the wretch, the amalgamation of her brother and shared enemy. He sat at the kitchen table, his breath ragged. He tried to speak, but only raspy laughter rang through Antigone’s ears. His body convulsed, knocking the chair from under him. He slammed his hands on the table, a quiet plea for help escaped his mouth. Misfortune coursed through his veins. A war waged within him, he dug his fingers into his scalp, slamming himself against the wall. Through Eric’s eyes he could see his sanity leaking from the cracks in the ceiling. Antigone stood paralyzed in horror as her brother fought over what, or rather who, would power his mind. An eye for an eye, a heart for a heart, a soul for a soul. He fought for control over his lost autonomy, a mutilated part of himself. Rudyard Funn dropped to his knees and cried out in agony.


	12. Chapter 12

Without thinking, she ran. She ran barefoot through the dark streets of Piffling Vale. For the first time in forever Antigone Funn felt the cold night air hit her face. It stung her eyes, tears fells as she ran aimlessly through the night. Storm clouds brewed overhead as she came upon the freakshow grounds and pounded on the only caravan with a light still on.

  
“Please you’ve got to help...my brother... Rudyard...” She groaned, falling into Marlene’s arms.

  
Without question, Marlene picked up Antigone, cradling her in her arms. She quickly made her way to Funn Emporium. From the streetlight, Jennifer and Georgie caught the two. Georgie demanding to know what had happened to Antigone. She received no answer as Antigone faintly clung to the ringmistress. The four women barged into Funn Emporium, where they found Rudyard laying on the floor, his breathing ragged and slow. His - really Eric’s- hand absently clawed the wooden floor until it slowly stopped completely. The ringmistress gently put Antigone down. Georgie fell to her knees, trying to check on Rudyard. She shouted at Jennifer to go home and wake the village. The radio host turned on her heels and ran back into the night. Antigone’s strength had not diminished and she alone picked up her brother, dragging him all the way into the attic where Eric's body laid on the floor lifeless.

The radio downstairs crackled awake, only for no one to hear it. Across the village, radios switched to life. Jennifer’s voice sounded through them, shouting for the village to wake up. Calls came in but she ignored them. Jennifer reported the truth, pleading with the villagers to dig up the recent graves. To see that not everything was as it seemed to be. She addressed Marlene directly, hoping she would hear her message about what happened to Patrick’s body. Underneath the pale moonlight, graves were found empty. Lead by Georgie, villagers gathered vulgarly, marching across the street. 

Of all the horrors Marlene had ever encountered, nothing would ever have prepared her for this display of anatomical reconstruction. Agonizingly, Antigone put her brother back together. The attic floor became a nauseating mess of viscera as she stuffed bright red guts back into the cavities of his torso. Layers of decaying skin gave her a stomach ache, her hand grasped his heart. The most difficult of all was his brain, a pink lump of hopes, dreams, and malice - a feast for the worms. Gone was the night as the sky lit up. Lightning crawled down to wholly scorch into Rudyard’s temples. Silence fell, smoke rose from the wires. Antigone weakly fell next to her brother, and pleaded to the sky to have mercy on her. She reached for her brother’s hand, a jolt of electricity ran between them - Antigone jerked her hand away, staring at him. Slowly, he sat up. He groaned, mumbling the absurd question of what happened. Antigone raised her hand, striking him heavily across the face. Rudyard shouted in pain. It took her a moment to realize that he had actually felt it, and slapped him again. Marlene tried to hold her back, but she tore herself away, lifting her hand once more. 

“Stop hitting me!” He shouted, grabbing her wrists.

Antigone shouted, trying to tear away from his grip while also wanting to slap him again. She stared at him, her brother, now alive and back to relative normalcy. She began to cry, wrapping her arms tightly around him. She could not remember if she had ever hugged her brother, perhaps once when they were children. Rudyard sat frozen, taken aback by the affection. His surroundings became clear to him. He was alive. He wrapped his arms around his sister, hugging her back for the first time. The beat of his heart was unmistakably there. The two of them let go of each other, the horrendous stench of blood and gore reaching their senses. Rudyard had had one final ideat, exposing a circuitry of fright. 

When it grows bright the villagers across the island start to marvel having made it through the night.

He said Eric had no guts because he replaced them with mechanical strain. He stood now as a welcoming piece for the Piffling Traveling Freakshow. An arm jerking in a waving motion welcomed each villager with a tinny “enjoy yourself.” His smile like a marionette being operated clumsily. The only thing carried by his vessel was an electric current. 

Never they ponder whether the automaton was calming if you looked at it right.


End file.
